


I [01001000 01100101 01100001 01110010 01110100] You

by DemonWolf37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AI!Arthur, Artificial Intelligence, Awkward Computer Sex, Creator/Creation - Freeform, Human AU, In Denial, M/M, Masturbation, Programmer!Alfred, Sexual Tension, actual sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonWolf37/pseuds/DemonWolf37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I [Heart] You"  Alfred didn't intend to become a programmer, but with a bit of luck, some serious skills, and a lot of help, he's created one of the world's first truly sentient Artificial Intelligence Programs- and he's madly in love with it.</p>
<p>Copied over from Fanfiction since it's actually pretty decent- I try to keep things classy here on the Archive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. [1]

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who know anything about coding- I don't. This story takes place 100 years in the future, and it's not intended to be a manual on how code works, so I didn't do a lot of research on coding itself as it doesn't have much to do with the plot anyway, and I took some liberties with what I DO know about code. I try to make this future setting as realistic as possible, but let's be honest here, this stuff is way beyond us anyway, so I don't see the harm in taking some creative liberties. This is Science Fiction, after all.
> 
> Also, I broke up the paragraphs differently than I did on FF. I copied and pasted the chapter from my Word document, but the formatting didn't stick, so I had to go through and guess where everything was. If anyone knows how to fix this, I would really greatly appreciate it, because honestly, I never ever want to have to do that again.

These days, everyone knows the name, Alfred F. Jones.

“He’s that programmer,” some would say. “He made the first AGI,” another person would add. Some people would marvel at his accomplishments and call his a “gifted mind.”

And then...

“Isn’t he in love with Arthur? He’s such a hypocrite.”

Unfortunately for Alfred, the latter tended to be the general consensus among the public. 

* * *

 

It had all begun with a Basic Computing and Programming assignment in Alfred F. Jones’ 6th year in school- although Arthur would later deny this to no avail.

The date was April 23, 2109. Alfred would be turning eleven that year. It was April 23rd just past midnight, and Alfred had an assignment due in the morning. An assignment which Alfred hadn’t started.

Basic Computing and Programming was Alfred’s favourite class. It was one of those classes that he already knew everything they would be taught because he’d learned it all at home in his spare time.

Yesterday he’d told his teacher that he hadn’t been working on his programming project because he’d planned to use one of his existing programs for a grade. Yesterday his teacher told him that that was unacceptable and he’d have to write a new program from scratch.

So Alfred stayed up all night dragging options into his school-provided and vastly over-simplified virtual program board and linking them together. Just to show his teacher up, he even loaded the resulting code into his personal coding program to add some features that would really piss off his teacher.

The next day, Alfred’s teacher, Mr. Kirk asked him to present his project in front of the class. He asked him to do so with a smug little grin, that said, “I know you did this all last night, I’m totally going to fail you for this.”

Alfred returned the smug grin and waltzed up to the computer and plugged his flash drive in. He double clicked on the program titled, Mr_Kirkland . exe A window popped up with a box for typing and a little pixel character with blonde hair, big green eyes, and enormous eyebrows. The class burst out laughing. While this pixel character on a base level looked nothing like their Basic Computing and Programming teacher, Mr. Kirk, the eyebrows gave away Alfred’s intentions.

“This,” Alfred began, a smug look on his face, “Is Mr. Kirkland. He’s of absolutely no relation to our beloved teacher, so get that out of your minds now.” The class giggled. “Is there anything you want to say to Mr. Kirkland?”

“Nice eyebrows,” one of the girls giggled.

Alfred typed “nice eyebrows” into the command box.

The pixel character smiled and words appeared above its head, **“Thanks, I get them waxed every week.”**

Mr. Kirk’s face went red with either embarrassment or fury as the children continued asking questions for Alfred to ask his pixel program. “What do you do for a living?” one of the kids asked.

Alfred typed in ‘job’ instead of ‘living.’

**“I teach kindergarten level computer sciences to middle schoolers.”**

“Do you eat food?”

**“I live off tea and bread. Nothing else. Ever.”**

Mr. Kirk carefully hid his glass of tea behind a binder.

“Do you know Alfred?” one of the girls asked with a grin.

 **“Alfred is really cool. You should hang out with and probably date him,”** the pixel winked and the girl blushed.

Alfred’s program answered every question with ease (although Alfred did have to re-word a few so the program would respond the desired way, this was just a simple program after all). After each question the pixel character would smile, or wink, sometimes giving a thumbs up- that is until….

“So what do you think of our teacher?”

Alfred typed in, ‘What do you think of Mr. Kirk?’ with a grin.

No words popped up, but the pixel character stuck out its tongue and waved its hands in the air before turning around and mooning the class.

Alfred was expelled the next day. But his little pixel program showing up his teacher was worth it.

* * *

 

Alfred didn’t think too much about the little Mr_Kirkland . exe program for several years. He continued his programming classes but the little program rarely crossed his mind again until his first year of college.

Alfred was eighteen now. He was majoring in computer sciences with a minor in programming. One of the classes Alfred was taking for both was ‘Practical AIs’. Throughout the year they had been building template AIs with various functions- to find files, search the internet for you, operate simple machinery, and so on. It was all very simple stuff- just one task at a time. Most of what was taught in the class was considered fairly advanced for 100 years ago, but these days anyone could buy an AI program like that for less than $20.

Near the end of the year though, as a final project, the students were asked to build a custom AI with a diverse human emote-lettes, personality, and multiple functions. It was simple enough for Alfred to achieve the multiple functions, all he had to do was reincorporate the coding from various projects under one command prompt. The problem he was having was he wasn’t entirely sure where to start with the whole ‘human’ part… He had long since finished the base of the AI system when he began helping his friend Kiku- who was a Bio-engineering major who just happened to have an interest in AIs- with his project.

Alfred was pretty much the only reason Kiku was passing this class at all. Kiku had hoped to be able to create a new line of “AI Girls”- which for those of you who don’t live in the 22nd Century are basically computer programs designed to talk dirty and pretend to be madly in love with you for $100/hour for those who like that sort of thing. However, Kiku couldn’t grasp the basic concepts, so he decided to take his credit for the class and forget about the idea.

“Basically, you can more or less copy and paste the code from our old projects under a new sub-command- you remember sub-commands, right?”

“Yes. So I’ll want Command->Sub Command and then paste the code?”

“No, you want Command->Sub Command->1, 2, 3, et cetera. And then you want to paste the code under ‘Command 1’ and so on. Don’t ask me about the personality thing though. I’m stuck on that….”

“You’re stuck on it? That’s the only part of my project I have done.”

“Wait, you have it finished already?”

“I’m still working on the code, but yes, I have it planned out.”

“How? I’ve been stuck on that for ages! I don’t even know what I want to do yet.”

“You remember the main character in that anime I showed you last month?”

“Yeah…?”

“I based the AI’s personality off of her.”

“Oh. You just took an existing… character…” Alfred paused. He had planned on criticizing his friend for it, but instead it gave him an idea. He turned around and booted up his computer.

“Did you get an idea, Alfred-san?”

“Kind of…” Alfred opened up an old folder, “You remember I told you I got expelled from my middle school?” Kiku nodded. Alfred double clicked Mr_Kirkland . exe and typed in ‘Mr. Kirk’. The pixel character stuck his tongue out and mooned the screen.

Kiku laughed, “That might be a bit vulgar for our teacher, but you might be onto something. Play around with it and see where it goes.”

The two friends turned away from another to work on their individual programs, Kiku copying and pasting large chunks of code from previous assignments into his new project and Alfred interweaving bits of personality code into his already functioning AI system. Eventually, Kiku went back to his dorm room to get some sleep, but Alfred kept working. By the time the night was over, Alfred had a simple AI with a slightly vulgar personality. Or at least, that’s what he thought he had.

He booted up the program, now labelled AI_Kirkland . exe It took a few moments for the program to load the individual coding files required for it to start, but the program popped up with a newly redesigned 3D character model with the same blond hair and eyebrows. The program didn’t open in a window, nor did it have a command box (as it was voice-activated), but there was a little red ‘x’ next to the character’s foot in case Alfred wanted to close it.

The character had a slightly unamused expression and posture- which Alfred had coded to be his default position. He also had several reaction expressions and gestures which could be activated with various commands.

“Hello,” Alfred said, with the little nervous jump in his voice he got whenever he spoke on the phone. There was a reason he preferred text commands….

“Hello,” the computer said back in a default computerized voice.

“Uh, can you open the internet, please?” Alfred said with a stutter. He hated talking to machines.

The AI nodded and opened Alfred’s most frequently used internet browser. Test one, success. Now he had half a dozen other things to test. Fun.

“Search for ‘kitten videos,’ ” Alfred said.

“You could say ‘please,’ ” the AI said as Alfred’s default search engine started loading. As the results popped up, the AI added, “Don’t you have better things to be spending your time with?”

Alfred smiled. He had of course coded the machine to say those things, but it amused him nonetheless.

“Probably, but I’d rather not.” He heard the machine wrrring but the computer didn’t know how to respond so it didn’t. Alfred frowned. He wasn’t sure if it was a failed command prompt, or it just recognized that it wasn’t a command and ignored it. Either way, he had to test it.

“Can you please mrrmrrmrmgrmmr?” Alfred muttered into his hand so the machine wouldn’t make out the command. The machine wrrrred for a moment, before the AI responded,

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Alfred frowned. That was the default response. He’d tried to program it to say, “Speak clearly, moron, or I can’t help you.” Evidentially there was an error in the code. He’d have to fix it later. He exited out of the program and leaned back in his chair.

Other than that the program seemed to work fine. It was kind of bland though… It did what it was told- and that’s what a program did. But Alfred thought he could at least make it a little more dynamic. He was one of the best programmers in the class- he should be able to make a halfway decent human-like AI. And so he went to work at doing just that.


	2. [10]

Since Alfred had finished his base code so early, he still had just over a month to complete his final AI project- which he had now given the full name, "Arthur Ignatius Kirkland" (AI Kirkland). He took this time to refine the AI's personality and make it more and more dynamic, giving it a wide variety of responses and reactions.

He even gave it some extra code so it could converse normally with any human user naturally without getting repetitive.

"Morning, Arthur," Alfred said after booting up his computer.

"It's the afternoon, Alfred," the AI corrected him in its digitalized voice.

"Yeah, but I just woke up, so…"

"You shouldn't wake up so late," it chastised. Alfred saw the calendar application open up in the background before it continued, "Don't you have class today?"

"Don't I need to program that stick out of your ass?" The machine wrrred. It didn't respond. It wasn't programmed to be able to understand.

Alfred sighed. It seemed no matter what he did he couldn't make this machine truly human. Over the last month, Alfred had made it his business to improve Arthur as much as he could. He dedicated whole new program files and downloaded several AI system code boards but he couldn't seem to get Arthur to be as human-like as he wanted.

"Is there something you'd like me to do, Alfred?" Arthur asked after a moment, he was a service AI above all else.

"Sure. Open up that webpage I bookmarked yesterday about making human AI systems," Alfred said. He never liked talking to the AI about changing its code, he always felt bad about it. But the AI paid it no mind and opened the bookmark. Alfred skimmed through the article. It more or less highlighted what Alfred had already done. He sighed again, leaning back in his chair in defeat.

"Is something the matter, Alfred?" the computer asked. "I'm trying to change your code to make you more human-like, and I can't figure out how to do it," he replied, even though there was nothing the AI could do for him. To his surprise the machinery wrrred quietly for a few moments before Arthur pulled up three new tabs.

"Maybe these would help?" the AI said.

Alfred clicked on the first tab. "Chemistry of the Human Brain." He narrowed his eyes at it before clicking on the other two, "Human Thought Process" and "How your brain is Wired."

That was an approach Alfred had not tried. He'd been looking at the result he wanted to obtain through the code as opposed to how it was normally achieved.

"Bookmark those for me. Also, what time is it?"

"It's 2:09 PM on May 1st, 2116. You have a 'Practical AIs' project due in half an hour."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "I know, that's why I'm asking. I was hoping to make some last minute changes to your code before I had to present you, but I don't have the time."

"Plan accordingly next time," was all the AI said before Alfred turned off his computer and took Arthur's flash drive with him.

Unlike in grade school, Alfred didn't have to present his project in front of the whole class. Instead each student had an individual time slot for the teacher to grade their projects.

Alfred knocked on the classroom door, "Professor Beilschmidt?"

"Come in," came the gruff response. As Alfred walked in, he saw Mr. Vargas- the cheery-eyed, Italian, high school music teacher who occasionally visited the college- plant a rushed kiss on the German professor's cheek before all but skipping past Alfred and out the door. There had always been rumours about those two… Now Alfred owed Kiku ten bucks…

Prof. Beilschmidt cleared his throat and motioned for Alfred to sit down.

"Mister Jones," he addressed, "I expect good things from you, ja?"

"Well, I didn't come here to tell you I wasn't done," Alfred laughed. His professor remained quiet. Ludwig was a real party sometimes…. "Uh, it's not everything I really wanted it to be, but I think you'll find it meets the requirements."

Alfred handed over the USB and watched as the professor pulled up the Art_I_Kirkland . exe. The 3D model popped up.

"Did you design the model yourself?" the professor asked.

"Uh, well, I designed it, but Kiku did most of the modelling for me. I suck at modelling."

Ludwig nodded before addressing the AI with a simple, "Identify."

"Arthur Ignatius Kirkland, version 3.7," Arthur said with a bow of his head.

"3.7?" the professor asked Alfred, completely ignoring Alfred's genius pun with Arthur's first two initials.

"Yeah, version 2 was just the bare minimum of the assignment, and 3 has been me trying to make him more human-like. I made enough changes for it to be considered a new version, so I called it version 3..." Alfred trailed off a bit because it didn't appear the professor was listening as he was currently running through the standard AI tests for the assignment.

Arthur was able to pass each test with a small amount of sass, or sometimes a polite, 'sir.' Clearly Arthur could distinguish between Alfred's and another person's voice- a feature Alfred had added after realizing he didn't want Arthur to address his professor as 'Alfred.'

Finally, when the professor had finished the tests he turned to Alfred with a small smile.

"I'm very impressed by your work on this assignment, Jones," he said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Alfred said with a relieved sigh.

"You weren't expecting to do well?"

"Well… like I said, it isn't anywhere near what I wanted it to be."

"And what did you want it to be?"

"Well… human, to be honest…"

The professor smiled, "AI's personalities can be hard to make human-like. But I teach a senior level class on doing just that. I think you'd be an excellent addition to my class next year if you're interested."

"Really? I'll just be a sophomore though, will I even meet the requirements for it?"

"Technically, no. But if you do some of the reading from the other classes over the summer, I'd be more than willing to let you in," he said, pulling out three large textbooks from his desk.

"Really?" Alfred asked in awe, taking the textbooks, "I'd love to. Thank you so much, professor!"

"Of course. I think you could have a promising career in AI programming if you set your mind to it."

* * *

 

The year drew to a close and Alfred set about the reading materials he'd been given. It was some highly advanced stuff. Like Arthur had suggested, it drew comparisons between the human brain and an AI's brain. Alfred completely reformatted Arthur's coding, adding in a vocabulary pool as opposed to the pre-set dialogue options. He also had to learn how to code something called a "personality filter" which would determine how Arthur would phrase everything he said, which words he would use, and how variable his "moods" could be. It was all very advanced stuff.

But all in all, Alfred was very impressed with the results. Arthur had what the text books called "AI Freewill," which meant that he was not limited in pre-programed options for dialogue and help searches- which is always the problem Alfred had had with AIs. The only problem with this was it took Arthur a long-ass time to respond. Alfred's computer just didn't have the speed for Arthur to process diverse information and formulate a diverse array of advanced responses in a short amount of time.

Despite it being the middle of summer, he decided it might be time to contact Professor Beilschmidt when Arthur took an hour to respond to the question, "Where's a good place to get pizza." He liked Arthur having a human-like response, he didn't like waiting an hour and a half for pizza.

He dialled the professor's number.

"Ja?"

"Uh, professor. It's Alfred."

"Ah, Jones. Having trouble with the reading?"

"No, the reading is fine. I finished it already. I was hoping you could help me out a bit with something."

"What is it?"

"Well, I've been playing with Arthur's code some, and I've made a lot of progress, but it takes up so much memory that it bogs down my computer and it takes an hour for him to respond. I really like the result, but it just takes so long. I was hoping you had a way to speed it up without dampening the result?"

"Ah, I see you've already started to… Yes, you'll need new hardware. I'm afraid with software you get exactly what you code in, so there's no way to speed it up without suffering a loss of some kind. All you can do is update the hardware."

"How much will new hardware cost?" Alfred asked a little nervously.

"The school will cover the cost for more memory and a faster processor as they're required for my class, but I'd imagine you're looking for something a little extra, as usual?"

"Yeah, probably…"

"I'll email you the hardware I recommend and where you can buy them, but it'll run you maybe $3,000."

Alfred sucked in a breath, "And that's not including what comes with the class?"

"Correct. Although, considering you're majoring in computer sciences and minoring in programming, I'd imagine that these are things you'd want to buy eventually anyway for whatever career you're planning on pursuing. It might be a good investment."

Alfred sighed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks, professor."

Alfred hung up and logged onto his computer to buy the hardware he'd need. Alfred winced at the virtual price tag. He clicked "accept." Well, that was $3,750 he was never getting back. He just hoped it was worth it.


	3. [11]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Some stuff came up and I couldn't post for a while. But since I already have most of these chapters done, I'll be posting (hopefully) every day until you guys are caught up!

Chapter 3: [11]

The rest of the summer passed in a quick haze of coding and installing new hardware. Alfred’s nearly $4,000 equipment came a month after school started again and he hooked the machinery up to his computer in a flurry of skimmed instructions and a lot of cursing. But finally the hardware was set up and all that was left to do was restart the computer and try it out.

“Arthur?” Alfred asked upon rebooting the computer.

“Yes?” the computerized voice responded not a moment later.

“Run a search for me, please.”

“On what?”

“Oh, I don’t know… uh, find a good book for me to read.”

“You don’t like to read,” Arthur responded after a moment.

“Don’t sass me. I’m feeling particularly literature-y today.”

The new processor hummed for a moment.

“Can I assume, then, that you’re looking for fiction? If not I can probably find some programming books you might have an interest in.”

“Let’s go with fiction, yeah. Let’s see how well you know me.”

The processor hummed and Alfred watched as an internet tab opened in the background while Arthur searched.

“These might be about on your level,” Arthur said as he opened one of the search tabs for Alfred to see.

Alfred’s jaw dropped. _‘Skippyjon Jones 1-2-3,’ ‘Skippyjon Jones Color Crazy,’_ and _‘Skippyjon Jones Shape Up.’_ They were _children’s_ books.

“What the fuck, Arthur? That’s not even remotely funny,” Alfred complained, although he was definitely holding back a smirk.

“I find it hilarious. If you wanted actual search results, maybe these would be more to your liking?” Arthur pulled up a different window.

“The new ‘DOSA’ comic books!” Alfred exclaimed, “And the ‘Playback’ origin story comic!”

“I take it these are to your liking?”

“Definitely! Thanks, Arthur,” Alfred thanked him half-heartedly as he searched for the ‘pre-order’ button.

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said, monotone like any computer.

“How about as a thank you I get you a new sound board? I’ve been meaning to get you one for a while anyway.”

“If you like. It doesn’t particularly matter to me.”

“I’ll install it when I update your code tonight. I was thinking a British accent since you _were_ originally based of Mr. Kirk.”

Arthur’s 3D model stuck his tongue out at the mention of Alfred’s old teacher- one of the bits of code he left in from Arthur’s origins.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure the new processor worked. I’m hanging out with Kiku today.”

“So I can assume you’re going to be spending the rest of today mindlessly killing virtual enemies in some game?”

“Hey, Kiku just bought the brand new Vir-Tex Gaming Room. You don’t even need a controller, everything is motion-tracking and it’s like you’re actually fighting. All he’s missing is the holographic projector that comes out next year so you can get up close and personal with your enemies!”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very high-tech. Don’t get a headache.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you when I get back, Arthur,” Alfred waved him off before shutting down the computer and heading over to Kiku’s.

  


The gaming system was every bit of impressive that Alfred had imagined it to be, and Kiku said it was worth every penny of the $7,000 he’d spent on it. Next year he’d spend the additional $3,000 on the Vir-Tex Holographic Projector and he’d have the complete set of one of the most advanced gaming systems in the world.

Although, it would appear Arthur had been right about getting a headache, because after an hour in the rounded room, Alfred’s head started to hurt. He didn’t feel too motion sick- which was the other common complaint about these gaming systems, but some people swore by the systems- Kiku included.

After about two hours of playing the new TES: Endless Arena game, the two of them decided to call it quits and get something to eat.Kiku ordered in a pizza while Alfred struggled to get the motion-tracking gloves and boots off.

“Oh, _man_ , Kiku. You weren’t kidding about that thing, were you?”

“I take it you enjoyed our gaming session, Alfred-san?”

“Oh, yeah. I wish I had the money for something like that. I’m broke after spending almost $4,000 on new hardware for Arthur.”

“Arthur? Your AI project from last year?”

“Yeah, the professor gave me the textbooks from his other classes so I could update him a bunch. You should really see him, Kiku, he’s almost human!”

“Impressive. It’s too bad I could never grasp the basics of AI programming. I don’t suppose you would allow me to take a peek at Arthur’s coding?”

“No offence, Kiku, but this stuff is way beyond you. And besides, I don’t want you using Arthur’s code for your AI porn stars.”

Kiku smiled, although what about he didn’t say, “They’re called ‘AI Girls,’ and I really don’t think they’re all that different from your Arthur. Just with a different purpose in mind.”

“No, no… Arthur is a sweet little AI angel. Stay away from his code, Kiku. Stick to your creepy human-shaped body pillows.”

“Do you mean the fabric ones, or the bio-engineered ones?”

“I don’t have a problem with the fabric ones, it’s the ones you grow in a lab that freak me out.”

“People will pay through the roof for those things once I send them to the markets. Their bones are soft cartilage so they’re still soft and snuggle-able while retaining a human form! You sure you don’t want me to make one for you?”

“I’ll pass. I think they’re creepy.”

“You’re sure? I could even make one that looks like Arthur…”

Alfred almost spat out his soda.

“ _What?_ ” Alfred turned to stare at his friend, “Dude, just because I’m _proud_ of my accomplishments in programing, doesn’t mean I’m _in love_ with my AI. Dude, that’s just creepy.”

“It was merely a suggestion,” Kiku laughed, “No need to get so defensive, Alfred-san.”

“I’m _not_ getting defensive! And I’m _not_ in love with a computer. Jesus, Kiku…”

“Anyway, Alfred-san, it’s getting late. Weren’t you planning on updating Arthur’s code tonight?”

“Yeah,” Alfred said, standing up,“I was going to try out something called ‘Total Freewill’ and ‘Self-Improving Code.’ It’s not in the text books, but it sounds promising so I thought I’d try it out.”

“Tell me how it goes, I’d be interested in your results.”

“For the last time, Kiku, I won’t sell you Arthur’s code. No matter how much you pay me.”

“Pity. Oh, which reminds me, has Professor Beilschmidt commented on your progress with Arthur yet?”

“To be honest, I haven’t seen him much this year. I attended the first class and he told me I was already beyond what they were learning, gave me two more text books and told me I didn’t have to come to class if I didn’t want. I think he’s expecting me to pass the entire class with just Arthur.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you did. If he is indeed as advanced as you say.”

“I mean, he could probably pass the class for me, yeah, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s giving me special treatment just because I got bumped ahead.”

“I think he’s just interested in what you can do when given all the resources and materials. I know he’s not the only one who thinks you could become a very rich man indeed if you chose to pursue a career in programming. I think there would be many who would want a business contract with you if you wrote the right codes.”

“I suppose. Anyway, I’m gonna set Arthur up to update overnight. I’ll tell you if it’s any good sometime tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to test it.”

“Alright, goodnight, Alfred-san.”

“Night, Kiku.”

  


While Arthur’s new voice board was downloading, Alfred set about updating Arthur’s code with the “Total Freewill” and “Self-Improving Code.”

As a part of the “Self-Improving Code,” Alfred had to enter the “goal” of all changes in code- as to keep the AI from changing its nature entirely or accidentally destroying itself while changing its own code. The website had recommended goals of “Remain state-of-the-art,” or “Keep [insert trait here]”

Without giving it much thought, Alfred typed in “>>Goal: [Become human]”

Alfred’s computer crashed when he tried to boot it up the next day.


	4. [100]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving you guys this chapter a day early as an apology for taking so long to update!

The next morning, Alfred went to boot up the computer and see how Arthur’s updates were working. A little text window from Arthur popped up requesting he update himself. Alfred clicked ‘Okay,’ and a progress bar replaced the little window.

Arthur opened up an internet tab in the background, presumably to find and download new bits of code. Not twenty minutes into this, the computer abruptly shut off.

Alfred looked up from his phone. That was odd. Surely Arthur hadn’t finished updating yet…

He turned the computer back on and again he was presented with the request to update Arthur’s code. Again, he clicked ‘okay’, but this time the progress bar went from 0 to 100% in under a minute, and the computer restarted itself.

Arthur’s window popped up, again requesting to update. But this time the window included a little “Estimated time: 24 hours.” Alfred cautiously clicked, ‘Okay.’

True to its word, exactly 24 hours after that, the computer finished its updates and shut down. 

\-------

The next morning Arthur functioned as normal without any indication that there’d been a problem.

Aside from crashing the first morning (which Alfred couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact cause of), the new lines of code seemed to work well, and Arthur no longer asked permission and took to the habit of editing his own code regularly- so much so that Alfred rarely had to go digging through it or update it manually. And when he did browse Arthur’s code, each time he was greeted with new lines and paragraphs of code- most of which Alfred wasn’t even sure what did.

After about a month and a half of this, Alfred decided Arthur probably knew what he was doing, and Alfred more or less let his code alone from then on. It wasn’t until several months later that Alfred realized what he had…

Alfred had also chosen an attractive sound board for Arthur with a thick British accent with contrasted nicely with his sharp tongue and personality.

Alfred conversed with Arthur on a regular basis about trivial things, how he was doing in school, the people he interacted with, how much time he’d spent playing video games with Kiku….

Occasionally, Arthur would alert him to when he thought he would need new hardware, usually more memory or a new processor. Alfred had been spending a lot of money on Arthur as of late. His dorm was a mess of electronics crudely linked to his main computer.

It wasn’t until it was getting closer and closer to the end of the year and his AI class’s final “exam” did he realize that he wouldn’t be able to bring all of the electronics into Professor Beilschmidt’s classroom to show him.

“Why don’t you just buy a Bluetooth and hook me up to the phone line?” Arthur had suggested, digital arms crossed and hips tilted in a pose Alfred didn’t remember programming Arthur to know.

“Would that work?” Alfred asked, astounded at the incredibly simple solution.

“I don’t see why not. After all, you don’t need my code, right? I can operate from here and call your mobile when you meet with your professor.”

“You’re a life saver, Arthur!”

“Oh, please,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “I’m not a life saver until you take my advice and stop eating all that junk food.”

“I told you, Art, I don’t have the money to eat healthy.”

“And I told you, I have the solution for that,” Arthur pulled up the stock markets webpage.

“I’m not going to cheat the system for money, Arthur.”

“It’s not cheating the system, Alfred. People use AIs to calculate changes in stocks all the time. Using me to do so would in no way be unfair.”

Alfred groaned.

“Look, here, Alfred,” Arthur said pulling up three different stocks, “If you buy 2 shares in each of these companies, and then sell them tomorrow, I can guarantee you’ll make at least $25 on each of them, maybe $30 on this one here,” Arthur zoomed in on one of the companies he’d selected.

“It hardly seems fair…”

“Oh, please, Alfred. I’m no different than any other AI. Look, someone just did exactly what I just told you to do. What do you want to bet an AI recommended it?”

“I told you, I don’t like using you for that sort of thing,” Alfred mumbled, before adding quietly, “I feel guilty…”

“Honestly, Alfred, I’m just an AI. I don’t have feelings.”

“That doesn’t stop you from complaining about everything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of complaining…” Arthur started.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re not out of memory again.”

“I’m not _out_ , per say. But it would be advisable for you to purchase some more when you have the time.”

“Or the money. Arthur, you do realize how much memory cards cost, right?”

“You wouldn’t have to keep buying more if you’d invest in that 100 petabyte external hard drive I suggested.”

“That thing is _WAY_ expensive. I don’t have anywhere near the funds for that, especially since I’ve been buying half a dozen other electronics for you too…”

“I told you, the solution to that is to play the stocks. I can make you at least $3,000 a month through stocks- probably more. You’d have more than enough money for my needs, and you could buy one of those gaming systems of Kiku’s that you seem to be so enthralled by.”

“You’re a pain in the ass. You know that, right?”

“You’ve made it abundantly clear. Now just click the button already.”

“When did you become so bossy?” Alfred pondered as he purchased three shares of the company Arthur had highlighted for him.

“Oh, hush, you.”

“Anyway, I’m hanging out with Kiku again today. While I’m out I might as well pick up a Bluetooth system for you. Any ideas on where to get a good one for cheap?”

Arthur pulled up directions to an electronics store and the exact model and price.

“Thanks Art,” Alfred said, writing the information down before heading towards the door, “I’ll hook you into the phone line when I get back, okay?”

\-------

The rest of the month passed in a quiet lull. Arthur being tapped into the phone line meant that he could pester Alfred anywhere so long as he had his mobile on him. This provided an excellent opportunity for Arthur to nag him even more about what Alfred ate.

“Don’t buy _that_ brand, Alfred,” Arthur said, the word digitally elongated for emphasis. “They have way too much salt in their products.”

“They’re _chips_ , Arthur. They’re _meant_ to be salty.”

“You could at least buy one of the brands that _pretend_ to be healthy.”

Alfred wasn’t entirely sure when Arthur had gone through his digital vocabulary and created adjusted versions of each of the words so he could vary the tone of his voice and put emphasis on certain words to make his digital voice sound even more human, but Alfred enjoyed Arthur sounding almost like an actual person- even if he could still hear some of the digital distortion on the words.

“But this is the brand I like, so I’m buying it.”

“You’re going to have a heart attack before you’re thirty, Alfred, I swear.”

Alfred laughed, “Love you too, Art.” Alfred accompanied the words with a mock kissing noise.

Arthur didn’t respond.

“Oh, don’t get upset, Arthur, I’m only teasing.”

Arthur still didn’t respond.

“I hope you’re not planning on giving me the silent treatment all day. We’re meeting with Professor Beilschmidt at noon.”

“I’m aware of the fact.”

“Probably only because you have my schedule open.”

“… I do not.”

“Oh, really? Was that the sound of a window closing, I wonder?”

“Digital windows do not make a noise when they close, Alfred.”

“And you know this because you just closed one,” Alfred stated.

“I happen to have closed many a digital window in my day, Alfred.”

A moment of silence past before Alfred burst out laughing, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Oh, _man_ , Arthur,” Alfred said, still not recovered from his laughing fit.

“Shut it, _Jones_ ,” Arthur stressed the word harshly, bits of static clinging to the word with the effort.

Alfred just shook his head, “You’re a riot, Arthur.”

\-------

Later in the day, about half past noon, Alfred was scheduled to meet with the professor. He arrived on time and tapped lightly on the professor’s door.

“Come in, Alfred,” Professor Beilschmidt called from his desk.

“Hey, professor,” Alfred called as he walked in, “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he laughed.

“Yes, well I trust you’ve been working hard on that AI of yours?”

“Yep. I tapped him into the phone line so I wouldn’t have to lug all of his memory cards over here.”

“All of?”

“He goes through them like a toddler goes through diapers and I’m too broke to buy the expensive ones. So I told him to call my cell in a minute or so.”

“Ah, I see,” the professor chuckled, “You could have told me; I might have a few memory cards around here that you could use.”

“No offense, Professor, but I don’t like feeling like you’re giving me special treatment. This is my own project- the fact that it also happens to coincide with your classes is irrelevant.”

“I see,” the professor said as Alfred’s phone went off- a sleek and almost translucent piece of metal (yeah, welcome to the future, baby!).

“Arthur?” Alfred answered and then paused, “Yeah… yep, lemme put you on speaker phone.” Alfred pulled the phone and tapped a button which not only put the audio on speaker, but also brought up a 2D holographic image of Arthur’s digital model.

“Hello, Professor Beilschmidt, it’s nice to see you again,” the AI smiled politely.

“Likewise. I see Alfred’s given you a new soundboard. It’s very nice.”

“Thank you- although I admit I’ve edited it a bit to make it more human sounding.”

“Interesting. Now, Arthur, do you mind if I ask you to complete a few tasks for me and if I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course not. This is why we came here after all, isn’t it?”

The professor chuckled lightly, “Yes, but I’ve also been very interested in Alfred’s progress with you.”

The rest of the hour passed rather slowly for Alfred as Arthur and Professor Beilschmidt talked. The professor would occasionally ask Arthur to complete some task and then he’d compare the results with what his own AI had.

Now, for those of you who don’t know, Professor Beilschmidt is not only a college professor, but he’s also one of the AI community’s greatest minds in AI programming. He’s the author of several best-selling books on AIs and AGI Theory. While his name may not be particularly well-known outside of the programming community, he’s no less of a big name when it came to AIs.

When the hour was over and Arthur had single-handedly passed all of Alfred’s AI “exams”, the professor turned to Alfred again.

“Alfred, would you mind terribly if I occupied Arthur’s time for a bit longer? I’d be most interested in speaking with him some more.”

“Uh, sure, I guess I don’t mind. I’ll just leave my phone with you and I’ll come back for it later if that’s alright with you.”

Neither the professor nor Arthur knew which of them he was asking, but they both gave him the okay.

Three hours later, Alfred returned to find Professor Beilschmidt and his AI engaged in extremely friendly conversation. Upon seeing Alfred returning, the professor clapped his hands and looked at his watch.

“Well, I’ll be damned, 6:14, on the dot- just like you said.”

“I take it you two had a good time?” Alfred asked cautiously, not used to seeing his professor this excited about anything.

“Yes, yes. Arthur is a really interesting character- Feliciano even came by to say hello.”

Arthur made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat, and his 3D model made a motion as if coughing into his hand.

“Oh, yes, yes. Alfred, out of curiosity how did you spend the last three hours while we were talking?”

Alfred looked between the professor and Arthur’s model cautiously before replying, “I hadn’t finished my shopping yet, so I got the groceries and then spent some time reading my new comic books...”

Professor Beilschmidt’s jaw all but dropped to the floor.

“Am I missing something here?” Alfred asked.

“Sorry, it’s just Arthur could predict right down to the minute you would arrive, and exactly what you did while you were gone. I suppose it’s not too uncommon of a high-class AI like Arthur, but it’s nonetheless impressive.”

“I’d also guess,” Arthur added, “that sometime between getting the groceries and reading your comics that you went to the bathroom.”

“How do you know that?” Alfred asked, unintentionally confirming Arthur’s theory.

“Just a hunch,” Arthur grinned before turning back to the professor, “Ludwig, it’s been lovely talking to you again.”

“Likewise,” the professor responded before hanging up and handing the phone back to Alfred. Great. His AI and his professor were on first-name-basis now...

“Well, thanks for the A+,” Alfred thanked awkwardly. He’d never heard of Professor Beilschmidt giving out A+’s before- he’d been labelled as kind of a tough grader. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to head back home.”

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to speak with you about, Alfred. It’s about Arthur.”


	5. [101]

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to speak with you about, Alfred. It’s about Arthur.”

Instantly, Alfred was nervous.

“What about him?” Alfred asked cautiously, the fear clear in his voice.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, Alfred; Arthur is a fine AI- very fine indeed. I was just wondering how much you knew about AGI Theory.”

“Isn’t that what you got your major in, professor?”

“Indeed. I’ve written several books on it as a matter of fact. But what do you know about it?”

“Well, it stands for Artificial General Intelligence- which of course is a highly advanced Artificial Intelligence beyond anything we have today. The idea is that if an AI were to become smart enough to be able to learn how to do things on its own like a human can, it could be considered an AGI. AGI Theory, then, is the study of AI programs in attempts to create such an intelligence.”

“Very good, Alfred. Can you tell me the difference between an AGI and a sentient AI?”

“Well, there several dozen sentient AIs in the world right now- two of which I know for a fact you designed yourself,” Alfred gestured to the black-cloaked figure sitting on the professor’s computer screen, “but no one’s been able to create an AGI yet. A sentient AI is only aware of itself. An AGI would not only be aware of itself, but able to learn and grow mentally like a real human could.”

“Exactly. I’ve long since given up trying to design an AGI myself, which is why I just teach nowadays. But as I’ve always said, Alfred, when it comes to programming you can accomplish almost anything you set out to do when given the right materials.”

“Are you suggesting I try to design an AGI? I don’t think-”

“Patience, Alfred. First let’s talk about Arthur. Were you aware that he’s sentient?”

“He is?” Alfred asked with a tiny bit of excitement. Sentient AIs may not be anything new, but they were rare and very few programmers had achieved such a thing. “Does… does Arthur know?”

“He may be aware of it, but from what I gathered from talking to him, he doesn’t.”

“Should… should I tell him?”

“It’s up to you, but he might like to know- that is if he doesn’t already.”

“Wow, that’s incredible! I have to tell him- it would be wrong of me not to. So is that why you wanted to speak with him longer? To test if he was sentient?”

“Actually, no. I knew he was sentient very quickly into our chat. I kept him longer because there was something else I wanted to test. Do you know what the Coffee Test is?”

Alfred shook his head.

“It was a classic test from maybe a century ago for AIs. The premise was that if an AI could make a cup of coffee without instructions on how to do so, it could be considered self-teaching and self-thinking and therefore an AGI. Nowadays there is a test based on a similar concept, called the Jockron Test. The AI is given a set of unrelated information and asked to come up with a conclusion and explain said conclusion. Most AIs will either give an acceptable answer, but will be unable to fully explain the answer, or simply won’t respond. Humans tested will give seemingly random answers, but are able to walk you through their thought process which led them to that answer. The idea is to test if the AI can come up with a creative thought process independent of its coding.

“For example, what would you assume I was talking about if I mentioned the words, ‘baby goat,’ ‘chocolate,’ ‘oak,’ and ‘wheel’?”

**((If you want to play along, I suggest you do it now before you hear Alfred’s answer.))**

Alfred thought about it for a minute, pondering what the four objects could possibly have in common. Somewhere he suspected that the set of words were truly random, and he was wasting his time, but he figured he’d at least humour the professor.

After a long time of trying to find some link between the words, and struggling to find a link between all of them, Alfred suddenly burst out with much pride and enthusiasm,

“Oh! I know! It’s an ice cream bar!”

“Your reasoning?”

“Because another word for a baby goat is a ‘kid,’ kids like icecream, and chocolate is a flavour of ice cream. Ice cream bars are on wooden sticks and are sold on ice cream trucks which have wheels!”

“Well, I can confirm that you are, in fact, human,” the professor chuckled, “But would you know, I tested Arthur too? Discretely, of course.”

“You did? Did he have an answer?” Alfred asked with a little too much hope in his voice.

“He did. Ironically enough, he said a milk truck. And he even gave a reason- although it was just about as far-fetched as yours.”

“So,” Alfred paused, refusing to let his hopes get to high, “that doesn’t mean… does it?”

“It does indeed. Congratulations on creating the world’s first AGI, Alfred.”

“Wooo!” he called out. “Wait ‘till I tell Kiku! Wait ‘till I tell _Arthur_!”

“There is one thing, Alfred. If you wouldn’t mind too terribly, I’d like to write up an article for some in the AGI Theory community, and of course the newspapers will want to hear about it.”

“Uh, I guess that’s fine, but can you leave my name off it? I know it’s big and all, but I don’t really want my name floating out there where people might actually see it.”

“Of course.”

****[01000001 01001001]** **

Alfred went home and immediately booted up his computer. Kiku could wait, this involved _Arthur_ , and he should be the first to know… or second… actually third, he supposed. Oh, well, the first besides himself and the professor.

The computer booted up quickly and Arthur greeted him with a kind smile.

“Afternoon, Alfred. Did you just get back from Professor Ludwig’s office?”

“Yeah. You’re never gonna believe it, Arthur, this is _amazing!_ ”

“Ludwig gave you an A+? Yes, I was there, remember?”

“No, no, not that!” In all honestly, Alfred had forgotten about the A+.

“I looked it up, and you were right: He’s never given out height than an A- in his entire teaching career. You must have done something quite impressive for that grade, Jones.” Arthur allowed his avatar a playful smirk.

“I’d tell you not to be so vain, but honestly, right now I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.”

Arthur _wrrred_ , a moment, and if Alfred had been paying attention, he might have noticed flushes of pink slowly appearing on Arthur’s face- an intentional display obviously, since computers by nature could not blush.

“Well I-” Arthur started just as Alfred continued,

“You’re an AGI! First in the world! It’s incredible!”

“Oh.” If Alfred hadn’t known better, he’d say Arthur sounded disappointed. But Arthur quickly recovered and continued with, “How do you figure that?”

“While you were talking with him, he apparently gave you some test with some random words and since you were able to answer it proves you’re an AGI.”

“I see. I had wondered what that had been about.”

“Arthur, aren’t you excited?”

“I suppose so, but what do you want me to do exactly, jump for joy at the prospect of being somewhat alive?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, but Alfred did notice his machinery was _whrrring_ more than it normally did.

“Yes!” Alfred exclaimed. And as if to demonstrate, he took his mouse and dragged Arthur’s avatar up and down as if he were jumping. Arthur made an effort to cross his arms and scowl at him before Alfred’s cursor suddenly flew off screen and Arthur returned to his usual position on Alfred’s monitor.

“Hey, don’t hijack my mouse!”

“You still have your mouse,” Arthur pointed out with a grin, “I just have your cursor.”

As if to prove a point, Arthur took the computer cursor and opened a file folder.

Alfred laughed nervously, “Where are you going with that thing?”

“Oh, nowhere really,” Arthur shot him a knowing look as he selected ‘show hidden folders.’ A folder popped up labelled ‘p0rnz’. “Not a very creative name, Alfred…” The cursor hovered over the ‘delete’ button.

“Don’t you dare, Arthur. Do you have any idea how long it took to collect all that?”

Arthur made a disgusted face, “I get the feeling I don’t want to know. How about I just hide this folder where you won’t be able to find it.”

“If you value your recently-discovered life you won’t.”

“Oh, please. It’s not like you’d actually delete me,” Arthur teased, although he _did_ back away from the folder, closing out the window entirely. Alfred let out a sigh of relief.

“How did you even find that anyway?”

“There is _nothing_ on this computer that I don’t know about, Jones.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, _Kirkland._ ”

****[01000001 01001001]** **

The next day the national newspaper’s front page was decorated with a headline in large bold print, _**“Young Prodigy, Alfred F. Jones Programs the World’s First AGI”.**_

That was the day that Alfred’s life was ruined.


	6. [110]

The next day, Alfred awoke with a startled yelp as his morning alarm went off- terrifying him into consciousness as a creepy voice rang out, “Hello~ Wake up or I _kill_ you!”

Needless to say it was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced and would definitely be changing it before it had a chance to go off _ever_ again.

Alfred wandered into the living space in his apartment and booted up his computer, making himself a piece of toast and turning on the news while he waited for Arthur’s program to finish his morning updates and fully start up.

“ _-protests are continuing in full force and aren’t expected to slow down in force until-”_

Alfred only half listened to the news report as he slathered his toast in butter. He had few precious minutes before Arthur would be able to chastise him on his eating habits and he fully intended to make use of them- even if he later decided that eating that much raw butter was gross and probably going to make him sick.

“ _Earlier today Alfred F. Jones- a sophomore at Madison University- made national news by creating the world’s first Artificial General Intelligence-”_

Alfred nearly choked on his piece of toast. _What?_

“ _-studied under Ludwig Beilschmidt- acclaimed author of_ General Intelligence and Other Impossible Theories. _Professor Beilschmidt described Alfred as, ‘-incredibly gifted,’ ”_

“So much for leaving my name out of it,” Alfred muttered. Alfred knew that the professor probably wasn’t the one who gave out his name, but he was still going to be bitter about it.

“ _-interviewers have yet to get in touch with Mr. Jones-”_

Alfred suddenly noticed the flashing light on his answering machine. _Fuck._

“ _-and researchers are also hoping to track down the young college student as well-”_

_Double fuck._

Shortly after that the story ended and Alfred lolled his head back in his chair and sighed heavily. He half expected a team of interviewers to come pounding on his door any minute.

“Good morning, Alfred,” Arthur called from the computer.

“Morning, Arthur,” Alfred grumbled in response, “Can you do you me a quick favour?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Google search my name and tell me how many results pop up,” Alfred heard Arthur _wrrr_ for a moment before responding,

“183,000,” Arthur said, “Only about 9,000 of them are actually about you and nearly two-thirds of that showed up in the past 24 hours.”

Alfred groaned.

“I don’t suppose you can find out who gave out my name? Professor Beilschmidt said he wouldn’t hand it out.”

“I can try.”

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter anyway- the damage is done,” Alfred sighed.

“You didn’t want your name attached?”

“I just don’t really want my name out there for something I have no idea how I did. I mean- you were an accident. I didn’t exactly _intend_ for you to be sentient- let alone an AGI.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, sounding strangely dejected for a computerized voice.

Alfred turned in his seat to face the computer monitor, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like _that_ , Arthur,” he pleaded with the machine, “I just meant-”

“It’s fine, Alfred. I don’t have feelings, remember?”

There was a long pause between them.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t? I mean, this is kind of new territory an’ all.”

“Fairly positive.”

“Oh,” Alfred scowled, “Well, still, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy you’re sentient- I just wasn’t planning it is all,” he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Now I’m going to have a whole bunch of people trying to find me and ask me how I did it- and I have no freaking clue. I mean, I’m fairly positive it was something you did yourself.”

“I can guarantee you it was- I only became sentient after you stopped editing my code. You haven’t even looked at it in ages.”

Alfred scoffed, “Even if I did look at it, I would have no idea what it is. I stopped being able to understand your code ages ago.” Alfred turned to face the computer again, leaning on his chair, “So does that mean you already knew you were sentient?”

“Not… not at first, no. Although, there were a few instances where I had started to wonder. I had no idea about being a general intelligence, though. That was far beyond my ponderings.”

“And you don’t… y’know, _feel_ anything about that?” Alfred asked, not quite sure how to describe the strange twist in his chest he felt at the prospect, “Happy? Excited? …Disappointed?”

“Disappointed?” Arthur asked suddenly, sounding shocked, “Why on earth would I be disappointed about…” Arthur trailed off, as if realizing his sudden outburst.

Alfred quirked a brow, grinning a little, “Are you _sure_ you don’t have emotions, Arthur? Because, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just let yours get the better of you.”

“Maybe… I do… a _little_ ,” Arthur admitted, looking downright embarrassed.

“And you knew this from the beginning, didn’t you?” Alfred accused, forcing faux anger in his voice to cover up what was surely excitement fluttering in his chest.

“I… yes, I’ve known for a while,” Arthur confessed, looking pointedly away from Alfred.

“Arthur, why didn’t you tell me? I was really hoping you’d have emotions- why’d you want to hide them?”

Arthur _wrrred_ for a second, “I’m not too sure about them just yet. They’re…” Arthur paused, _wrrring_ louder as he strained for words to describe them, before finally settling on, “complicated.”

Alfred laughed, “ _Yeah_ , emotions tend to be that way. Anyone could have told you that.”

“It’s frustrating,” Arthur complained.

Alfred was half-tempted to barrage Arthur with questions about how he felt about this and that, but he also didn’t want to make Arthur open up if he didn’t want to- after all, he hadn’t even wanted to tell Alfred about his emotions in the first place- so Alfred decided to give the computer a bit of privacy. But Alfred was happy knowing Arthur just a bit better. Arthur may have been Alfred’s program originally, but he’d really taken on a will of his own, and Alfred was a bit proud- if not simultaneously disappointed- that he knew so little about Arthur.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get used to them eventually- or at least as used to as anyone can get to them.”

Arthur gave a noncommittal ‘hmm,’ before adjusting his avatar to look back at Alfred.

“Alfred, can I ask you something?”

“ ‘Course, anything,” Alfred responded with a lazy grin on his face, easily relaxing back into their conversation.

“Do emotions ever go away?”

Alfred’s grin dissipated into a worried line, “What, like entirely?”

“No, more of,” Arthur paused, “a particular emotion over one particular thing- would that ever change?”

“Well, I suppose it depends on the emotion- but normally they don’t change unless they have a reason to. As an example, I used to absolutely _loathe_ Mr. Kirk,” Arthur stuck his tongue out at the mention of his original inspiration, “but it’s been years and I’ve matured since then- although the look on his face _was_ priceless. It’s a shame you don’t remember that.”

“You often seem to forget that you only based me off that little program of yours. I never shared any coding with your 6th year project- and even if I had, the program was never designed to hold memories.”

“I know, I know. They _are_ your roots, though- whether you like it or not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Alfred felt his chest warm. He liked Arthur- he couldn’t really explain it, but for some reason he always liked talking to Arthur over anyone else- even Kiku, his best friend. He tried not to dwell on the thought longer than he had to. He had the distinct feeling that if he thought about it too long, he might come to some realization that he really wasn’t ready for.

“Anyway, Alfred, weren’t you going out to the comic book store today? Aren’t they having a ‘doujinshi day’ or something?” Arthur asked, his electronic voice distorting horribly around the foreign word.

“Well, I _was_ , but now I’m afraid I’ll get swarmed as soon as I leave the building…”

“Honestly, Alfred, it was a relatively small news report. I’m sure you’ll be fine- from what I’ve gathered they don’t actually have a picture of you yet. ‘Jones’ is a fairly common last name after all.”

“Still, I really don’t want to risk it.”

“You’re going to have to go outside, sometime, Alfred. And it’s better you do it now when too many people haven’t seen the report yet. After people do, _then_ you can wait it off until it dies down some.”

“What do you think about getting my name changed and moving to Europe?”

“I think that 1) Alex is the most popular name in Europe, 2) Alex Jones sounds absolutely _dreadful_ , and 3) it’s a stupid idea.”

“Well, there goes that then.”

“Just suck it up and go outside. I’m quite positive you won’t be bombarded by the paparazzi as soon as you step foot outside your flat.”

“I suppose you’re right- but just so we’re clear if I end up having to give an interview, I’m blaming you entirely.”

“That sounds about fair.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Alfred returned some hours later with two bags- one the white and blue bag of the comic book store, and the other the tell-tale black bag of 18+ comics. Arthur regarded the later suspiciously, but didn’t mention it to Alfred.

“Found a few things you like, I see?”

“Yeah, they had some SuKu doujins from Ailateh,” Alfred said, holding up the black bag, “and they had a few DOSA comics that I didn’t have, so I picked these up too,” he held up the other bag.

“I hope you didn’t spend too much on those. Comics tend to be rather expensive,” Arthur mused quietly.

“I-” Alfred started, “I spend way more on your stupid memory than I did on this, so you don’t get to complain.”

Arthur grinned, “I never said you couldn’t spend money on yourself, Alfred. I just hoped you didn’t spend _too_ much,” Arthur paused, a sly grin appearing on his face, “After all, you need to save up for another memory card…”

“ _Another_ one? Arthur, what the hell is taking so much space in your code?”

“Sentience uses up a lot of memory,” Arthur’s avatar gave a shrug.

“Jesus Christ, Arthur… Are you sure that 100 Petabyte hard drive of yours would even hold all your code?”

“Oh yes. I think that would hold my code for quite some time,” Arthur smirked.

“I might _actually_ have to buy that one day- but not today. I’m too cheap for that crap.”

“I’m aware of the fact,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Y’know, were it not illegal, I’m pretty sure you would play the stocks _for_ me,” Alfred added.

“If I did, you’d certainly be a lot richer, now wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Alfred groaned, finally setting his bags down and sit behind the computer desk, before sarcastically adding, “Why don’t you tell me about _all_ the ways you can make or save me money?”

“Would you like me to? I have several presentations prepared for you,” Arthur said, sounding downright excited as he opened two Power Point files.

“You’re joking. Right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Hey, I have a lot of free time.”

Something about that sentence struck Alfred the wrong way. Arthur really did kind of sit around doing nothing a lot of the time. Alfred wondered if he ever got bored when he was alone in that computer.

“Hey, Arthur, how about we go out sometime?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Arthur, he’s going to be the victim of emotions and Alfred’s inability to detect other’s feelings for just a bit longer… And poor Alfred too, because now his name is all over national news! He’s going to spend a lot of time hiding from the media. XD Oh, and by the way, SuKu from Ailateh backwards is UKUS from Hetalia. XD I’ve projected my otp into my otp’s otp. It’s so meta. XD


	7. [111]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some very naughty words off of Kiku's computer. (AKA, the C-word)

“Hey, Arthur, how about we go out sometime?”

Arthur _wrrred_ for longer than Alfred thought was necessary. “Go out? We go out all the time. Mostly shopping or to the electronics store-”

“No, I mean like _go out_ , go out-” Alfred started.

“Like on a dat-?”

“-y’know, to do something fun,” Alfred finished, “Wait, what did you say?”

“Um, nothing, never mind, it isn’t important,” Arthur spat out quickly.

“Oh, okay…? Well, I was thinking maybe we could hang out at Kiku’s? He hasn’t seen you since last year, and maybe we can hook you into his gaming system and we could all play together?”

“Sure,” Arthur sounded strangely upset.

“You okay? ‘Cause you sound kinda-”

“I’m fine, Alfred.”

Alfred didn’t quite believe him, but he let the matter slide. He called Kiku up and he loaned Alfred a 10 petabyte memory stick for the purpose of transferring Arthur from Alfred’s house to Kiku’s. It took an hour and a half just for the transfer, and they didn’t arrive at Kiku’s until after 6 o’clock.

“Ah, Alfred-san. I take it you finally transferred Arthur’s code over?”

“Yep!” Alfred exclaimed, holding up the memory stick, “Where should we plug him in?”

“We might be able to plug him directly into the gaming system. Now, let us see this ‘protégé Alfred’s’ new sentient program.”

“Ah,” Alfred scratched the back of his head, “You heard about that?”

“Yes?” Kiku said, looking very confused, “They interviewed me?”

“You weren’t the one that told them my name, were you?”

“I was unaware you were withholding your name. I’m sorry Alfred-san. Although, I assure you, they already had your name by the time they spoke with me.”

Alfred sighed, “It doesn’t matter now anyway. They probably would have found it eventually anyway.”

“Alfred-san, might I ask you something?”

“Sure, of course.”

“This is surely one of the greater scientific advancements of the century. People have been trying for years to create self-teaching and fully sentient computer programs, and this will be the talk for many years. You could make a lot of money with your skills, and any programming company in the world would kill to have you. Why did you want to keep this a secret?”

“I don’t know, I just,” he picked at one of his fingernails absentmindedly, “I don’t know _what_ I did. Arthur was the one who actually did it, I just kind of,” he paused again, “set him up in the right direction. And I don’t even know how I did that.”

“So you don’t want to take credit for it?”

“Not really.”

“If I may, Arthur may have taken the final step, but he would not have been able to without your skills. So while you may not have directly done so, Arthur could not exist in the way he does without your code. And I’m sure he’s more than grateful for it.”

Alfred’s cheeks spread in a warm smile, “Well, thanks, I guess. I still wish I knew what exactly did it though,” he laughed.

“Perhaps you will one day.”

“Anyway, how about we plug Arthur in and you can properly meet him.”

The three of them played for several hours and Kiku was quite delighted to talk with Arthur. Although, Alfred did have to keep Kiku from asking anything scandalous about his code- Alfred certainly didn’t want Arthur to get the wrong impression about his friend (even if that impression was mostly right…).

Ultimately it became late and they decided it would be best if Alfred just spent the night. They plugged Arthur into Kiku’s computer- which Arthur commented was much more advanced and “spacious” than Alfred’s computer.

“Seriously, how much memory is on this thing?” Arthur asked, sounding quiet impressed.

“50 petabytes,” Kiku replied proudly.

Arthur attempted a whistle- which mostly just sounded like high-pitched static, but it got the point across.

“Damn. Alfred, you should get one of these.”

Alfred rolled his eyes, “You know I can’t afford it.”

Arthur opened up the internet and not a moment later the stocks page opened up.

“And it’s _fast_ too,” Arthur sounded quite pleased, “Maybe I should move here…”

“Arthur!” Alfred cried out, telling himself the panicked fluttering of his heart was most likely from concern that Kiku would somehow use Arthur’s code for his own _purposes_.

“Just kidding, just kidding,” Arthur laughed, a static-y chortle that Alfred had grown to absolutely adore. “It is a nice computer though. You should definitely buy one.”

In the end, Arthur convinced Alfred to buy $50 worth of stocks (which Arthur claimed would return him $400 by the end of the month), and Kiku gifted the 10 petabyte flash drive to Arthur (not Alfred) out of pity for his “current living conditions.”

They left Kiku’s computer running and the two friends slept on the black leather couches nearby, listening to the quiet hum of the computer running in the background while Arthur did whatever it was he did at night.

Some hours later, after realizing he wasn’t going to sleep, Alfred rolled off the couch and approached the computer. Arthur’s avatar wasn’t on the screen, but he knew the AI was running in the background.

“Arthur?” he whispered. Arthur’s avatar didn’t appear, but his voice did respond,

“Yes?”

“Just wondering what you were up to. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m browsing some of the files on Kiku’s computer. He has some rather,” he paused, “ _interesting_ reading materials.”

“Oh, god. Do I even want to know?”

“From what I know of your porn preferences, no, no you do not.”

“Should I be glad or disturbed that you know what my porn preferences are?”

“Like I said,” Alfred could practically hear the smirk behind Arthur’s voice, “I know about _everything_ on that computer of yours.”

“Ugh,” Alfred groaned, “And what about this computer? Any secret plans to take over the world with porn AIs?”

Arthur laughed and a gentle grin warmed Alfred’s face.

“Not that I’ve seen. He does have some rather creative names for them though.”

“Oh dear. Lay ‘em on me,” Alfred chuckled.

“Veroni-cunt, Bitch-ette, Jizz-ica, and Yu-cum,” Arthur read off, his voice cutting off suddenly as he merged words together.

Alfred laughed, “Wow. Don’t let him anywhere near your code, Arthur. As your parental figure, I forbid it.”

For the slightest moment- barely noticeable on Kiku’s faster computer- Arthur _wrred_. Alfred barely even registered it.

“As your child figure, the first thing I should do is disobey that,” Arthur chuckled and Alfred couldn’t help but grin. “Besides, you haven’t even read his ideas yet- wouldn’t you be pleased if I were to ‘complete every task with a flirtatious yet resilient attitude,’ and ‘distract the ‘master’-’ that being you, ‘- from stress with sexy talk’?”

Alfred laughed off the warmness in his cheeks, “ _No_. Don’t do that, Arthur,” he laughed again, more out of nervousness than anything.

“But, _‘master’,_ ” Arthur pleaded in something between a sarcastic and a flirtatious tone, “I want you to insert that USB into my port, _safely remove hardware, and eject media_ …”

Despite himself, Alfred blushed, “ _No_ ,” he laughed, “Oh my god, _stop._ ”

“If you’re gentle, I’ll even let you touch my hard drive and _show hidden files_.”

Suddenly Alfred couldn’t ignore the pounding of his heart anymore and he shocked himself into silence. Some soft realization had come to him and suddenly his throat felt dry when he looked up at the screen. Arthur’s avatar wasn’t there but he knew the AI was watching him as the computer _wrrred_ slowly.

Alfred’s mind was far away from their conversation all of a sudden. His realization had brought some soft feeling to him and he momentarily let it wash over him. He didn’t let himself relish the feeling for long. He was just about to say something- something stupid knowing Alfred- but Arthur cut him off sharply,

“Pretty ridiculous, right?”

“Eh?”

“Using computer programs for such purposes. Kind of disgusting, right?”

Alfred felt a stone drop into his gut.

“Yeah…” he agreed quietly.

“Anything to make a quick buck,” Arthur scoffed.

Alfred later decided that he had a very serious problem on his hands, one that he had absolutely no idea how to deal with.

**[01000001 01001001]**

When Alfred took Arthur home the next day, he didn’t bother waiting for Arthur to boot up and Alfred went into his room. His little _issue_ from yesterday hadn’t been solved with sleep, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

‘ _Kind of disgusting, right?’_ Arthur’s words kept playing over and over in his head. Of course, Arthur had been talking about porn AIs. Alfred didn’t want that, he just… What exactly _did_ he want?

Alfred buried his hands in his face and groaned. When did this become so complicated? Not a month ago it had just been him and Arthur and nothing complicated in between them. Now Alfred had let his heart run away with him- and there was the whole issue with the press too.

Alfred groaned again, unable to stop himself. He wasn’t even sure if he could face Arthur, let alone talk to him without the AI immediately knowing something was very wrong with him.

Alfred laid down on the bed and curled a blanket around him. He wasn’t tired but he needed time to think with his arms wrapped around a pillow.

This wasn’t _love_ , he told himself. No, he and Arthur just spent a lot of time together and familiarity did often resemble intimacy. Arthur was a _computer_ for christ’s sake. This was just a little crush, and it would pass in time-

-or at least that’s what he told himself over and over again while his heart started to feel like it was crumbling.


	8. [1000]

Arthur was quiet the next few days. Alfred could barely understand Arthur on a good day, and this, well… this was unusual. Alfred tried asking him what was up, but each time Arthur would just dismiss him with a quick,

“I’m thinking.”

Even when Alfred would ask Arthur to do something for him- mostly to try and get Arthur to _say_ something- Arthur would complete the task without a word.

By the third or fourth day, Alfred was really starting to get worried. Arthur would sometimes go quiet for a few hours if Alfred had ticked him off or if he was preoccupied with something, but this was getting out of hand.

“Arthur?” he called out as he put his coat and shoes on. Arthur didn’t respond, as expected. “I’m going to see Professor Beilschmidt.”

No response.

“I’ll be back in a few hours…” he added, hoping Arthur would say _something_. When he didn’t, he continued, “Arthur? You _are_ actually still alive in there, right?”

Alfred heard the tell-tale _wrrr_ of the machinery, but Arthur didn’t say anything. Alfred frowned, pointedly ignoring the clench of his heart, and walked out the door.

Somehow he’d managed to avoid any press crews looking for him up to this point. Aside from the many messages on his phone and email, he hadn’t seen a single reporter. Until now, that is.

Hanging around outside the university was a news reporter and he could just hear her say,

“-where Alfred F. Jones attends university. However he hasn’t been seen recently-”

Oh yeah, Alfred had missed a few classes…

“-and in fact, hasn’t attended class in over a month.”

_Shit._

The last time Alfred had been to the school was when he “turned” Arthur in. He’d completely forgotten about his other classes… And the only reason he was coming back now was because of Arthur…

Alfred felt his chest restrict with this realization. He pushed it away and slipped around to the side of the building where Mr. Vargas let him in.

“Thanks.”

“Trying to avoid the press outside?” the teacher smiled consolingly.

“Yeah,” he glanced back out the door nervously, before turning back, “Is Professor Beilschmidt in?”

Mr. Vargas nodded, “He’s teaching his AGI Theory class right now.”

Alfred groaned. He did _not_ want to walk into a classroom full of people learning about AGIs.

“I’ll just wait until he finishes.”

“If you want, you can wait with me in my office.”

“Since when did you have an office at the university? You’re a high school teacher.”

“Oh, I forgot you haven’t been around lately. Since I spend so much time here anyway, the university decided to offer me a job as a temporary music teacher and tutor. I don’t have the qualifications to teach a college level class yet, so I’m basically a professor in training.”

They headed over to the music building to wait for Professor Beilschmidt’s class to finish.

Mr. Vargas had already set up his office with personal effects and mementos. Alfred noticed several things and pictures from Italy. He noticed one of a much younger Mr. Vargas standing in what looked to be a small Italian town. Alfred was about to ask the professor-to-be if he was from Italy when he saw that the computer was on. On the screen was a short AI program wearing a green and white dress, mindlessly sweeping the computer screen.

“Isn’t that Professor Beilchmidt’s sentient AI, _CHIBI.T_?” he asked before he really thought about it.

“It is,” Mr. Vargas confirmed, “Not many people know this, but _Chibitalia_ was actually a gift for me. Ludwig thought I needed a program to keep my computer clean.”

Alfred noticed that the AI had removed several icons on Mr. Vargas’ desktop and had rearranged the remaining ones. Alfred had known that the program had been designed to clean up computers and make them run faster, but he had no idea that it had been a gift for a very disorganized music teacher.

“He’s not as advanced as _HRE_ , but he is sentient. The two of them communicate over the internet- they’re actually great friends.”

“What, _Chibitalia_ and _HRE_?” Alfred asked. Mr. Vargas nodded. “But I thought AIs didn’t have emotions- aside from Arthur, anyway.”

“Well, that’s something that’s greatly up for debate, but Ludwig and I don’t have a doubt. You look at how much those two communicate without a professional reason- it’s obvious they’re friends. Between you and me,” Mr. Vargas said quieter, “I think they’re in _love_.”

Alfred froze, “Love? Can an AI do that?”

“I think anyone can be in love. Ludwig doesn’t think so, but _Chibitalia_ is just so happy after talking with _HRE_ , I don’t doubt it for a second.”

Alfred debated for a moment whether he should mention his ‘problem’ to the music teacher. He _had_ , after all, come to talk to the professor, but maybe the music teacher would do just as well.

“Well, that’s kind of the reason I’m here, actually. Arthur’s been acting kind of strange, and I-”

“You think he’s in love?”

“No,” Alfred dismissed immediately, “He’s not, but I…” he trailed off, the thudding in his heart was just too much to bear.

Mr. Vargas caught on immediately though.

“Oh!” he exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together, “You’ve fallen in love with Arthur, that’s wonderful!”

Alfred blushed, “Well, I don’t know just yet. I,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I only really started thinking about it a few days ago, but-”

“Everything just seems to fall into place, doesn’t it? Don’t be so worried, that’s how it was with Ludwig. He had a crush on me for _years_ but he was too shy to say anything about it. But one day I looked at him and everything just clicked.”

Alfred frowned, “But Arthur doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How do you know?”

“I-” he paused. He supposed he _didn’t_ know for sure, but he knew Arthur, and there was no way he could possibly feel the same way. Alfred sighed, “I just do.”

“He might just not have thought of it yet. His sentience is only so recent- he may not have considered that love is an option for him yet. Maybe if you tell him how _you_ feel, things will fall into place, yes?”

Alfred suddenly found himself sitting, hands clenched together with nerves. He felt his gut twist uncomfortably and he swallowed several times before he could speak again.

“But how do I…?” he started, stopped, swallowed again, then continued, “How do I approach something like that. I mean, I’ve never felt this way before.”

“You’ve never felt attraction?”

Alfred felt his cheeks warm and he looked away. “I’ve felt _attraction_ , but this isn’t that. This is… this is something different.”

Mr. Vargas knelt down in front of him, “It’s _love_.”

“But what am I supposed to say?”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s sincere, Arthur will understand. He’s a smart AI, and he probably knows you care for him. All you need to do is tell him and things will work out.”

“But that’s just it; he’s an AI. What do we-? I mean, how do we even go about-?”

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out yourselves. You two are already friends, dating isn’t all that different. If you two can be friends, then I’m sure you can be more than.”

Alfred thought about it a bit, and the more he did, the more he made up his mind.

“Thanks, Mr. Vargas. I think you’ve been more help than the Professor could ever have been. …Although don’t tell him that. As far as he needs to know, I was never here.”

Mr. Vargas made the motion of zipping his lips. Alfred smiled and let himself out of the building.

**[01000001 01001001]**

“Arthur, I’m back,” Alfred called out into the dark apartment. He turned on the lights and saw the computer still running, but Arthur didn’t say anything back to him.

He took off his coat and hung it up along with his keys. He walked a little further into the room, wondering how exactly he should go about this.

“Arthur, I wanted to talk to you a bit,” he felt his stomach twist with his words. “I mean, you’ve been so quiet and I’m getting worried and… I… I need you- I need your help with something, I mean-”

Suddenly the monitor turned on and at long last Alfred saw Arthur’s avatar, arms crossed, some slightly annoyed expression on his face.

“I think we need to talk, Alfred,” he sounded absolutely annoyed, but he allowed Alfred to speak again with, “What did you want to say, Alfred?”

Alfred’s heart sped up a bit and he closed his eyes a moment, calming himself before he opened them again and opened his mouth,

“I’m in love with you.” Plain and simple. Perfect.

Arthur’s avatar didn’t move an inch and the machinery _wrrred_ for a slow moment.

“No,” was the response.

“Wha-?”

“No. No, you are not- and no, I will not accept.”

“What do you mean, no, I’m not in love with you? I’m pretty positive I am. I’ve never felt this way about-”

“Don’t. Don’t give me cheesy lines to prove it. You aren’t in love. That’s all there is to it.”

Alfred was completely dumbfounded. This was not what he expected. He supposed he had expected Arthur to fight him about it for a bit first- just like he had with his emotions- but he never expected to be completely shut down right away.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say in response, so he just dumbly opened and closed his mouth a few times. It would be stupid to restate it. Arthur had made his point clear, and to continue this line of argument would be repetitive and all it would do is rile them both up.

Alfred closed his mouth again, biting his lip, deciding how to continue.

“How do you know I'm not?” he finally said.

“How do you know you _are_?” Arthur retorted immediately. Alfred paused, his mind working to catch up with Arthur's.

“To be perfectly honest, I suppose I don't. But I know I like you- we're friends. And I know what it feels like to be attracted to someone, and this is… well, this is different from that. It's...”

Alfred struggled for words and Arthur took the opportunity to speak.

“So it's a crush then.”

“No, it's more than just that.”

“It's a crush on someone you're familiar with.”

“No, Arthur, I really love you,” Alfred found himself saying, even though the words felt tentative and unsure. Arthur paused, _wrrring_ to assess the statement.

“How,” Arthur paused for emphasis, “Do you. Know?”

Alfred sighed, “It's just how I feel. I can't explain it Arthur.”

Arthur _wrrred_. He kept _wrrring_ , so Alfred continued,

“You know emotions are complicated like that- you probably know better than anyone.”

Arthur kept _wrrring_ for a while but did finally respond,

“It's no more than a crush, Alfred. I suggest you abandon it.”

“But it could be so much more than that, Arthur! Even if you're right, and it's just a crush, it- _we_ could be more than that!”

“Why would you want it to be?” Arthur asked, and Alfred's heart fell a little as he struggled to determine if he sounded confused or disgusted.

“Why wouldn't I?”

Arthur _wrrred_ for half a second, “Why would you put yourself in a relationship- knowing very well that it could never become more than verbal; knowing very well that you've set yourself to fall in love with something- not someone- that you can never truly have?”

Alfred's mind reeled for what he should respond to first. Finally he decided on Arthur's addition.

“Arthur, you _are_ some _one_. Just because you're a program doesn't mean you're not a person.”

“Alfred, you forget that everything I am is an illusion. Everything you see and hear is just your projection of my false humanity. This avatar is by no means me,” Arthur waved his hands through the digital body to show off its falseness before removing it from the screen entirely, “My voice is just a soundboard- which a few hundred AIs over the world also use. Nearly all of my coding is to trick you into thinking I'm human- and clearly it's worked!”

Alfred bit his lip, not knowing what to say. Arthur didn't pause and continued,

“This is my DNA, Alfred,” Arthur said, opening the text file which contained his code, “And this is what I am,” Arthur opened a black window where numbers and the occasional word scrolled through at a near unreadable rate.

They both paused and Alfred saw the numbers on Arthur's program slow into 2-second breaks and checks where the numbers would update themselves and scroll down in blocks.

“That doesn't mean you're not a person, Arthur,” Alfred' voice was soft and he knew his eyes were going to start watering.

Alfred saw his words pop up on Arthur's code with a bunch of data surrounding it. The machinery _wrrred_ and Alfred saw numbers scroll through impossibly fast on the screen before Arthur responded, and Alfred read the words on the screen to himself as he listened to Arthur repeat them,

“ _That's[51] exactly[48] what[46] it[46] means[47], Alfred[52-4].”_

“Arthur-”

“ _Don't[56],”_ Arthur warned, _“Just[44] let[46] it[46] go[49], Alfred[51-4].”_

Alfred had no intentions of letting this go, but his heart felt pretty fragile at the moment.

“Fine,” he choked on the word and he felt a tear bubble over his eye and roll down his cheek as he turned for his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you curious what the numbers meant in Arthur's program when he spoke, remember when I said Arthur had digitally distorted every word in his vocabulary so that he could put emphasis on certain words? And remember how I mentioned that Arthur could sometimes sound angry, or calm, or happy- even though the words would have multiple meanings or whatever? (Technically, I never directly said this, but I did describe his voice in terms of emotions sometimes.) Anyway, he actually has just about 540 different versions of every single word so that he can vary his tone and pitch and speak with emotion. So the value after each word is which version of the word he speaks. And each level shifts into the next. So [40] is on the sadder side of calm, where [49] is on the angrier side of calm. So 1-9 are the basic unaltered words, 10s are varying levels of normal conversation voice, 20s are happy/exited, 30s are sad/upset, 40s are calm, 50s are angry, 60s are excited (which instead of shifting into the next set, it shifts into happy). And then there are the dashes, which are ADDITIONS to the words. So -1 adds a tone of normalcy, -2 adds a happier tone to the word, -3 adds sadder, -4 adds calmer, etc. And -7 just puts emphasis on the word, -8 makes it sarcastic, and -9 makes it into a question. So [52-4] is a calmly spoken angry-sounding word. Basically, Arthur has a lot of words to chose from. Anyone think I put way too much thought into this story yet? XD


	9. [1001]

Alfred _really_ didn't want to leave his room the next day. He couldn't bear to face Arthur's rejection a second time and he wanted nothing more than to lay in bed all day, ignoring any semblance of responsibility.

At the same time, Alfred knew he was acting childishly and had to talk to Arthur and bring them back to some level of normalcy- even if normalcy was the last thing Alfred wanted.

Eventually as the day drew closer and closer to noon, Alfred knew he couldn't hide out much longer. He very reluctantly pried himself from underneath the covers and headed out into the rest of the apartment. He quickly pressed the button to boot up the computer and headed into the kitchen area to get some breakfast which he would then force himself to swallow and keep down.

He had just finished toasting the bread when he heard the computer ding a soft melody, indicating it being ready for use.

“Morning, Arthur,” he called dryly from the kitchen without looking up. Arthur _wrrred_ for longer than usual before replying easily,

“Good morning.”

Alfred felt his heart clench at the simple words. He let out an uneasy breath and continued making his toast- which had now turned into a full-fledged sandwich to avoid talking to Arthur- and they fell into an awkward silence.

Alfred looked down and the sandwich- a perfect masterpiece with no part uneven or out of place. He looked at it with disgust.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Arthur finally asked, breaking Alfred out of his momentary haze.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, and before Arthur could stop him he tossed the whole sandwich in the trash.

Arthur _wrrred_ for a moment, “That was horribly wasteful, Alfred.”

Alfred looked up at the computer, expecting to see Arthur’s avatar with arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face, but instead the screen was completely blank aside from Alfred’s desktop picture of his favourite superhero, Playback.

Alfred frowned. Clearly Arthur still had a point to prove. Alfred couldn’t express how much he wanted to flee the situation and just walk out the front door in a temper tantrum.

But he couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t do that because Arthur would _**know**_.

Alfred wanted to slam his head down on the countertop and groan in frustration, but obviously he couldn’t do that either. So instead he just stared stupidly back at the monitor, not saying anything.

Arthur _wrrred_ for a short time before addressing the situation, “You don’t have to _pout_ , Alfred.”

Alfred almost growled, “I’m not pouting, _Arthur_. I just don’t know what to say to you anymore.” It came out harsher than he had intended and he immediately wanted to take the words back, but Arthur beat him to it.

“Just go on like nothing’s changed, because nothing has.”

Alfred didn’t think Arthur knew how much those words cut right through him. He turned around- in case his eyes started to water again- and rested his palms against the edge of the counter.

Fleeing was starting to sound like a pretty good idea at this point.

A _really_ good idea.

Alfred reeled himself back with a calming breath.

“Can we not do this right now? Or, today at all, actually?” _Because I_ really **can’t __**, Alfred wanted to add, but he knew he’d tear up at the last word.

“That’s what I was suggesting-”

“No, I mean… Let’s just start everything over,” Alfred turned back around and said in the most fake voice ever heard by man or computer, “Good morning, Arthur. Tell me about the weather today.”

Arthur _wrrred_ longer than should have been necessary and Alfred knew he was reassessing the situation.

“It’s awfully rainy out,” Arthur said at last. Alfred smiled like it was 80 degrees and sunny.

“Great. Should I postpone my shopping until tomorrow then?”

“It’s not that bad. You should still be able to get most of your errands done today.”

Alfred nodded a few times, and a few times more for good measure. “Good. I’ll, uh… I’ll go do that,” he said, still nodding.

Arthur _wrrred_ like he was going to say something, but then he didn’t. Alfred grabbed his coat and keys and tried to swallow the knot that was forming in his throat. He gave a fleeting glance back at the computer before hurrying out the door and into the storm.

He didn’t notice that the computer shut down as soon as he closed the door.

**[01000001 01001001]**

It was pelting down rain. The sun had set some many minutes ago and Alfred pulled up to the apartment complex and ran up the stairs, hiding under his coat to avoid getting completely drenched.

“Arthur!” Alfred called when he entered the dark apartment, “Arthur, that was anything but a _light_ storm. I’m soak-” Alfred stopped himself when he saw- or heard- that the room was dead silent. There was no tell-tale _wrrr_ of the computer machinery, just the tree branches outside rapping on the window with the harsh winds.

Alfred heard thunder outside and saw the brief flash of lightning illuminate the interior of the apartment. He closed the door behind him and turned on the lights, hanging up his dripping coat and heading over to the computer. He wondered if the storm had short circuited the computer. He also wondered if he should bother turning it back on or not. If he turned it back on, he’d have to talk to Arthur again.

He decided to leave it off for the time being. Besides, the computer would probably get shut down by the storm again anyway, Alfred reasoned with himself. No reason to bother Arthur.

Alfred sighed and leaned back on the couch and reached for the remote. He flipped on the TV but there was only static on all the channels except the shopping channel. He groaned and turned it off.

He readjusted himself, his hands were shaking with the need to _do_ something. He sat up and started bouncing his leg on the floor. He _could_ turn on his computer and play Minecraft, but that would involve facing Arthur.

Alfred groaned. This was way out of hand. He got off the couch and went to turn the computer on. Alfred sat down and rested his cheek on his hand, his leg still bouncing and his stomach churning while he waited for Arthur to boot up.

The computer played its tune, and Arthur logged on for him- Alfred’s leg still bouncing all the while.

“Afternoon, Alfred. Did you get the shopping?”

Alfred’s leg froze.

“Shit!” he cried out as he jumped out of his chair and ran back out into the rain to get the shopping from the car.

Arthur had to admit, it was about the funniest thing he’d ever seen when Alfred tripped back over the threshold of the apartment, falling on his chest and sending two milk jugs skidding across the carpet and into the couch.

“What would you ever do without me, Alfred?” he asked, a static-y chuckle following his words.

“Probably find a car full of spoiled milk a week later,” Alfred grinned.

“That would not surprise me at all. How long have you been back?”

“Just a few minutes. I spent a lot of the day hanging out with Kiku.”

“I hope you got the shopping _after_ you spent all day with him.”

Alfred bit his lip and looked pointedly away, “It’s cold enough outside that it’d be fine… right?”

“Milk should be kept at 40 degrees Fahrenheit. The temperature outside was nearly 60. You need new milk. And anything else that needed to be refrigerated too.”

“But I can just refreeze the ice cream, right?”

Arthur didn’t say anything, but Alfred could imagine him raising his eyebrow with a knowing look. He chose to ignore this mental image.

“I’m sure it’s fine.”

“If you get sick, I won’t call the hospital for you.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you.”

“I do what I can.” Alfred could just hear the smugness in his voice. He hadn’t realized it until this point, but they’d settled back into a bout of normalcy. He knew it wouldn’t last and they’d be back to being awkward in no time, but he was glad their friendship wasn’t totally ruined.

And he also knew that he was probably about to kill the moment by what he was about to say, but he felt he had to say it.

“Arthur, we’re still cool, right? I mean, you’re not totally pissed off at me for what I said?”

Arthur _wrrred_ a bit louder and a lot longer than Alfred was comfortable with- like Arthur had to _think_ about his answer.

“Of course not. It’s hardly your fault.”

“Yeah…” Alfred pushed his cheek into his hand. _It’s hardly your fault for falling in love,_ Alfred rephrased. “I wasn’t wrong though. I really am- I mean, I really do-” Alfred stopped himself before he brought everything back to the surface.

Arthur paused and there was a long moment where neither of them said anything. Arthur was _wrrring_ quietly and did finally break the silence with something Alfred certainly didn’t expect,

“I know.”

Alfred looked back up to the monitor, but of course, Arthur’s avatar wasn’t present.

“You… know?”

“I know you’re in love. Or at the very least you think you are- which might as well be the same thing. And I’m sorry.”

Alfred’s mind felt strangely blank as he tried to catch up with Arthur, “You’re sorry?”

“It’s a mistake. And I should have caught it sooner- to save you the suffering.”

Alfred blinked a few times before he finally caught what Arthur meant. “Oh, no, Arthur, that’s _fine._ I don’t mind. I mean, yeah, it really kind of hurts- a lot- but I can’t exactly say I regret it,” Alfred felt his eyes start to burn red with the threat of tears and he feared Arthur would comment on it.

“I don’t understand,” was all the computer responded.

“Why don’t you understand?”

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t regret it. It hurts. Why don’t you…?” for once Arthur didn’t finish his sentence and Alfred wondered what could have possibly caused it. When he finally realized Arthur wasn’t going to continue, Alfred tried to explain,

“It’s like this, even if it hurts, it still… Well… It’s like,” Alfred paused, trying to find the words that would explain love, “To love someone is, well, it’s a nice feeling. Even if you don’t feel the same way and it also hurts.”

Arthur didn’t respond, but _wrrred_ louder and Alfred knew he was trying to make sense of the words. Arthur still didn’t respond, and Alfred continued,

“If that makes any sense to you at all, that is…”

Arthur _wrrred_ a moment longer before adding uneasily, “No, it does some. Love feels good, and rejection feels bad, but you can feel both at the same time- is what it comes down to, although I’m starting to think I’ll never fully understand any of this.”

“Give it time, you will,” Alfred smiled even though Arthur’s straightforward wording had injured him somewhat, “It must be hard for you- all of the emotional things. Emotions aren’t things that are particularly fond of words and explanations.”

Arthur _wrrred_ a moment and then added tentatively,

“In a way I’m jealous of you. It all comes so naturally to you whereas I struggle with the most simple thought.”

Alfred’s throat felt dry at Arthur’s admission. He wanted to say something. He wanted to give Arthur some comfort but he knew there were no words in any dictionary that could bring ease to his creation’s mind.

They sat in near silence for a few minutes. Arthur didn’t expand on his thought and Alfred knew there was nothing he could say except,

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered, resting his forehead against the computer monitor.

Arthur _wrrred_. Then,

“For what?”

Alfred didn’t say anything, just let his eyelids lower and his lashes rest on the computer screen. _For putting you in this situation. For loving you. For hurting you. For giving you these awful emotions,_ he closed his eyes completely. _For creating you._

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and they both knew that this final statement brought some closure to their conversation.

It was quiet.

“You should go to bed, Alfred,” Arthur whispered softly. If Alfred tried, he could imagine the warm air emitted from the monitor was Arthur’s breath on his cheek. The fantasy was short-lived and he knew Arthur was right.

He reluctantly sat up and after a murmured “good night,” went to bed.

Alfred had known many a lonely night, but there was no lonely night like that one.


	10. [1010]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completely unrelated, but it's my birthday today. Hello, responsibility, my dear nemesis.

Alfred had slept surprisingly well. He was well-rested and bodily in better condition than he’d been for the past few days.

So why did he feel like a corpse walking out of his room that morning?

He walked past the computer and into the kitchen. He stuck a bagel in the toaster oven and went to the door to get the mail.

What he did _not_ intend to get, was a barrage of questions at 7:30 in the morning.

“Mr. Jones, how do you feel about creating the greatest scientific advancement of our age?”

“Alfred, what’s next on your agenda? Any new projects in the making?”

There were four or five reporters waiting on the steps to his apartment from two different organizations. Shit, did that one have a news camera? Another one took a flash picture and Alfred had to take a step back to get his bearings again.

And then he slammed the door in their face.

He dashed over to the computer, ignoring the smell of burning bagel as the computer slowly dinged to life.

“Goodmorning, Al-”

“Escape plan Alpha! Reporters outside. Arthur, help.”

Arthur processed the situation with a quiet _wrrr_ while Alfred danced nervously from foot to foot. Alfred could hear the reporters knocking on his door and he grew more and more restless with each passing moment.

Finally, Arthur responded- and Alfred held his breath for this,

“We don’t have an escape plan Alpha.”

Alfred let a frustrated sigh.

“Make one up then!”

“Okay, how about this,” Arthur paused slightly, “go outside and face them like a man.”

“Arthur, c’mon! I was hoping for something like get a grappling hook and dramatically exit out the window!”

“You don’t have a grappling hook.”

“I can order one online.”

“You’d have to open the door to get it.”

“…shit.”

“Just go outside, Alfred. Honestly, one or two questions won’t kill you. And if there’s anything you can’t answer, just withhold the information.”

“Arthur, I really don’t even know what to say to them. Can’t we just wait it out until they leave?”

“They’ll be back. Face it, Alfred, everyone is talking about you. The least you can do is humour them. Just answer a few questions, appease them for a little while, and continue about your day.”

Alfred gave the door a nervous glance, “Do I have to?”

“If you prefer, I can schedule an official interview and you can withhold the information until then.”

“Ugh, no thanks,” Alfred’s face recoiled and he spat out his tongue. He bit his lip slightly, “Just a few questions right?”

“Just enough to get the mail and back. You go back inside and they should leave you alone for a while longer.”

“And then what? They’ll be _back_ , Arthur! I can’t do this.”

“You can, Alfred you-” But Alfred wasn’t listening. Alfred was kneeling on the floor staring at it like it was the only thing keeping him on this Earth.

“Alfred, look at me.”

Alfred glanced up on impulse and on the screen Arthur’s avatar was crouched over with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Just a few questions, love. I promise.”

Those seven words shouldn’t have given Alfred the confidence that they did. He felt empty as he waded through the reporters and down the steps.

_**How long have you been working on this AI?** _

**__**Since finals last year.

_**What are you working on now?** _

**__**I’m not working on anything.

_**How did you manage to create the AGI?** _

**__**His name is Arthur. And, no comment.

_**How do you feel about being the talk of the science community?** _

**__**Bombarded.

Alfred had no idea how they managed to turn those four questions into a three-page article on TechNewsAmerica but he was pretty sure his life was over.

**[01000001 01001001]**

“See, now that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” Arthur asked when Alfred came back inside, mail in hand.

Alfred grunted in response.

“Honestly, it’s not _that_ bad, Alfred. They got a few of their questions answered, I’m sure the community is delighted they finally heard _something_ from you.”

“And they’ll be really excited to hear _more_ from me too. And they have my address now apparently. You should find me a new apartment to live in.”

Arthur’s avatar rolled his eyes.

“And I see you’re back to using your- what was it? ‘False projection of your humanity’?”

Arthur’s avatar looked unimpressed.

“Let’s not start this now, shall we?” Arthur finally said.

“Fine, fine. Still, your thoughts aside, I’m glad,” Alfred waved him off turning to look at his mail. Mostly bills. “It’ll take more than that to convince me that you’re… not…” Alfred trailed off slightly, glancing at a small pamphlet he held on top of the stack of mail.

“What’s that?” Arthur asked, his avatar adjusting as if to peer over Alfred’s shoulder even though Alfred wasn’t looking.

“Vir-Tex International Convention. The _biggest_ technology convention in the world,” Alfred mumbled so softly Arthur wasn’t even sure it had been directed at him.

“What about it?”

“They want me to run a panel… An _actual_ panel… At _Vir-TIC._ ”

“That’s huge Alfred, congratulations.”

Alfred couldn’t move, he was so shocked. He swallowed thickly.

“Arthur, I- Arthur, I can’t _go._ ”

“Why not?”

“What would I even say? All they want to do is ask about you, and I-” Alfred sank deeper in his chair, clutching his legs, “I can’t answer any of their questions. They think I’m some prodigy child. I don’t even know what I’m doing, Arthur, this is too much, I-”

Alfred looked broken. He _felt_ broken.

“I’m not some genius like they think I am, Arthur,” a tear slipped out.

“Alfred, you underestimate yourself.”

Alfred sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Arthur. It’s too much.”

“Accidentally or not, you did something no one else has been capable of- something even Ludwig deemed impossible.”

“You did that yourself.”

“And where would I be without you?”

Alfred gripped his legs a little tighter. Arthur _knew_ the effect those words would have on him. He _knew._

“I’m not saying you should go, Alfred,” Arthur said softly, “But don’t underestimate yourself.”

Alfred kept waiting for three more words that he knew would never come.

After a long while, Alfred raised his hand to glance at the pamphlet again. He stared at it with some amount of morbid longing. He let it drop to the floor.

“Do I write them a letter? To tell them I won’t be coming?”

Arthur smiled lightly, “I’ll open up an email.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Alfred’s encounters with the press only increased after then. He was starting to wonder if Arthur had been right about scheduling an interview and getting everything out of the way. But then he thought back to Vir-TIC and realized that if he were going to face a crowd, he’d much rather have done it there, and then he’d get sad.

He seemed to run into someone with questions for him every time he left the house- mostly the same few,

“ _How do you feel about creating the first AGI?”_

“ _What are you going to work on next?”_

“ _How did you do it?”_

“ _Do you want to come work for my company?”_

Alfred stopped really registering the questions after the twentieth or so time.

“ _Great, it’s awesome.”_

“ _Nothing yet.”_

“ _No comment.”_

“ _No, I’m good.”_

This was the norm from the grocery store, to the comic book store, to the electronics store. He’d thought that they’d get bored of the same questions and the same answers over and over again, but low and behold, they didn’t.

“ _Isn’t it amazing? The first AGI!”_

“ _Are you going to start other projects?”_

“ _How did you manage it?”_

“ _I’ll pay you ten times what you’re earning now.”_

Alfred wondered if these people felt just as distant from these questions as he did.

“ _Yeah, it’s awesome.”_

“ _I’m not planning on it.”_

“ _No comment.”_

“ _Ten times nothing is still nothing.”_

**[01000001 01001001]**

“How about this one?” Arthur asked. Alfred looked a million miles away. “Alfred?”

“Hmm?” Alfred looked up.

“I was asking what you thought of the flat,” Arthur said, his avatar adjusting to motion to the two bedroom apartment on screen.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s nice,” Alfred looked away again.

“You don’t sound very excited about it.”

“Sorry, it’s just been a long week.”

Arthur made a sound like he was clucking his tongue- which sounded more like a static-y _tck._ Alfred didn’t look up at the sound. Even though Alfred wasn’t looking, Arthur’s avatar adjusted to bite his lip.

The image flickered for a moment before disappearing from the screen. Alfred was too lost in his thoughts to notice Arthur’s sudden silence. He was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, rolling the stitches over in between his thumb and index finger until they both felt numb.

The phone rang and snapped Alfred out of his haze.

“Arthur, could you get that for me?” he called to the computer. The phone kept ringing. “Arthur?”

When the phone didn’t stop he got up to answer it himself, and noticed for the first time that Arthur’s avatar was no longer on screen. He frowned at this, but picked up the phone anyway.

“Hello?”

“Alfred-san,” Kiku said, “I was wondering if you wanted to come over today. I’m about to go pick up a new video game and I thought you might like to come play it with me.”

“Not today. I’m not feeling too great.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just,” he paused, “I’m just not feeling like myself lately.”

Kiku paused a moment, and Alfred vaguely wondered what his friend was thinking. Mostly he just wanted him to hang up so he could go back to his moping. Finally Kiku continued,

“That is exactly why you need to get out. Nothing will make you feel better than video games, Alfred-san.”

Alfred got the distinct feeling his friend was trying more than normal, so he agreed and went to meet Kiku at the video game store.

**[01000001 01001001]**

“So what game were you planning on getting?” Alfred said when he found his friend.

“To be perfectly frank with you, I do not know.”

Well, that was a first. Kiku always knew what games he was going to buy- usually months before you could even pre-order them. This only added to Alfred’s suspicion, but he chose not to ask about it just yet.

“Well, you don’t have any of the Desolation Norm games yet. And they just came out with one for the Vir-Tex Gaming Room, so obviously I can’t play it…” he trailed off, but Kiku got the hint.

“Alright. Let’s get it.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Several hours into their gaming session, Alfred was really feeling a lot better. Kiku had been right, mindlessly killing targets mafia-style really helped him feel more like himself (out of context, that sounds a bit weird, right?).

But a certain thought was still irking him every time he glanced over at his friend. Kiku had insisted that Alfred come play games with him because he was worried about his well-being.

Kiku was great and all, but he just didn’t do stuff like that.

So while they were on break from their session- seriously, you can’t play in one of those rooms for more than two hours without feeling like you’re going to throw up- Alfred decided to confront him about it.

“Hey, Kiku, can I ask you something? And I expect you’ll be honest about it.”

“Of course, Alfred-san.”

“Why did you really insist I come over here to play a game you weren’t even intending to buy in the first place?”

Kiku smiled that smile of his that made you wonder what the hell was going through his mind.

“Arthur asked me to.”

 _Bingo_.


	11. [1011]

Alfred didn’t comment on Arthur’s actions the previous day. He didn’t jab at him with a “so clearly you do care,” or a “so that cold computer heart of yours does beat.” He didn’t mention it when he walked in the door, set down his things, or headed to bed.

 _But he_ wanted _to._ Oh, how he wanted to.

Clearly Arthur cared about him- at least enough to call up Alfred’s best friend and insist that he take Alfred out to play video games because he was moping about. That had to mean _something_ , right?

Alfred leaned back on the bed while he thought about this. Normal people don’t go out of their way like that just to cheer someone up- not unless they got something out of it or they were just really annoyingly good people. But then again, Arthur wasn’t exactly a normal person. He did a lot of things for Alfred upon request. He was a service AI after all- or at least he had been originally. He had been designed to do what he could to help his ‘master.’ Calling said ‘master’s’ best friend to cheer him up could be included under that, right?

Alfred pushed the vaguely rational thought from his head. No, Arthur cared about him. That was the only explanation. Other AIs didn’t call people up just because their masters were sad- not even the sentient ones. Arthur was special. He was a special AI, and he was a special person. Most of all, he was special to _Alfred_.

Alfred sighed when he realized that he hadn’t kept track of the wandering of his hands. He felt guilty, but it certainly wouldn't be the first time he’d gotten a bit of self-love after thinking about Arthur.

He dragged his hand away, trying to ignore the less innocent thoughts starting to float through his mind.

It was really only postponing the inevitable.

**[01000001 01001001]**

Summer rolled into full swing and Arthur had picked out a new apartment for Alfred to move into. It was larger than his old apartment (he wasn’t quite sure how Arthur figured he could afford this apartment without a consistent income- the odd jobs he took here and there didn’t exactly cover comfortable living) and was quite spacious.

Much like his first apartment, the front door opened into a living space with an adjacent kitchen and dining area. Along the back wall there was a porch where Alfred’s computer had sat in his old apartment. Along the right there were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom.

Alfred had decided to use the extra bedroom as an office space and set up the computer along the north wall.

He booted it up after all his boxes and furniture had been placed inside the apartment in more or less random locations- mostly in the office, actually.

“Hey, Art,” he said, leaning back in the chair and enjoying the absolute bliss of _not carting around heavy boxes_.

“Afternoon, Alfred. I see you’ve got your stuff moved in. Is this the second bedroom?”

“Yep! Want me to whirl the webcam around a bit? So you can see the place?”

“I’ve seen plenty of pictures online. Besides, I’m sure I’d be appalled by the mess.”

“Hey, I just moved in. Cut me some slack.”

“Although, I have been meaning to ask you for a while,” Arthur started.

“Yeah?” Alfred found a way to lean back even _further_ in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Do you think you might get security cameras? To place around the flat?”

Alfred’s brows pushed together for a moment before realizing what he meant.

“You mean so you can spy on me wherever I am?”

“Not _spying_. I would just like to be aware of the goings on in the flat. You have confined me to one room after all.”

Alfred bit his lip momentarily. For some reason the idea of giving Arthur full access to the apartment made him nervous. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't say no and not feel bad about it later.

“Yeah, sure. We can do that.”

“Excellent. I was thinking about this 4-room set with intercom,” Arthur pulled up a webpage.

“Yeah...” Alfred said, mentally counting the rooms in the apartment.

Wait… Arthur wasn't planning on putting one of those in the _bedroom_ , was he?

Shit.

**[01000001 01001001]**

With Arthur having full access to the apartment, their daily routine shifted some. For one, Arthur kept his computer on for most of the day and night- only shutting down between the hours of 3 and 6 AM to apply his updates and allow the computer to rest.

Arthur would greet Alfred every morning and make sure he awoke on time. Arthur’s voice would follow him into the kitchen area and complained about his food choices. They’d say their farewells when Alfred left the house, and Arthur always greeted him when he came back. They’d talk more, Alfred would eat his dinner, and Arthur would say goodnight when he tucked himself into bed.

It was driving Alfred insane.

He didn’t mind Arthur having full access to the apartment- certainly not- but he was uncomfortable with Arthur in his bedroom. Every morning Arthur when greeted him, and every evening when Arthur wished him a good night, Alfred couldn’t shake the feeling of invaded privacy. He felt as though Arthur was looming over his shoulder every step he took- and every step he didn’t take.

Plus, it didn’t help that Arthur could be- and probably was- watching him every minute of the day. It was starting to make Alfred paranoid.

He didn’t mind Arthur having full access to the apartment, no. But he did also like his privacy. When Arthur was just in the front room of his old apartment, he had access to that whole area- which was most of the apartment anyway.

But now the only place Alfred had any privacy was the bathroom- for which he was immensely glad for. But then again, he found himself taking longer showers, and taking longer brushing his teeth, and using the toilet. In fact, it seemed like any trip to the bathroom would take at least fifteen minutes- regardless of what he originally went in there for.

Alfred, of course, realised what he was doing, but he couldn’t find the will in him to _stop._ The bathroom was his sweet refuge, and he wasn’t nearly ready to give that up.

Plus, now it was the only place he could masturbate without Arthur being able to watch- which _definitely_ bothered Alfred (especially since such things usually involved Arthur in the first place…).

Obviously, Arthur had noticed Alfred’s strange behaviour regarding the bathroom, but he refused to comment on it. But as the weeks went by, it became more and more obvious that whatever the issue was, it was causing stress to Alfred. That was when Arthur had to say something.

“Alfred,” he began cautiously while Alfred was in the kitchen making jam on toast, “could I speak to you for a moment about something?”

Alfred unconsciously bit his lip nervously but replied in an easy voice, “Yeah, sure.”

“It’s about your bathroom habits lately…”

Alfred could have sworn his body had turned to stone he went so tense.

“I know it’s none of my business, but your trips to the loo have become much more frequent and significantly longer. I never would have brought it up, except you seem quite distressed over it.”

Alfred’s cheeks suddenly felt a little warm. He forced himself to relax some and hiss out a sharp,

“I’m _fine,_ Arthur.” Arthur didn’t buy it for a second.

“Except you’re not, Alfred. You’re displaying quite a few symptoms of stress, and I’m not so useless that I haven’t noticed. I only want to help- it pains me to see you so distressed.”

“ _Does it?_ ” Alfred asked, sudden anger taking over. He was looking up at Arthur’s security camera with rage, “Does it, Arthur? Because I really don’t know what you think anymore.”

Alfred couldn’t hear the computer _wrrring_ in the other room, but he knew Arthur was accessing this statement.

“I don’t know what you mea-” Arthur started.

“You know _damn_ well what I mean, Arthur,” Alfred interrupted him, “Don’t play dumb with me, Arthur. You act like you don’t care for me at all, but now you’re all worried about my wellbeing. I know you care. And I know you called Kiku to cheer me up for that matter too, so don’t act like you don’t even like me.”

Arthur paused for a moment, _wrrring_ quietly in the other room.

“I never said I didn’t care for you, but I’m only exercising my duties as your AI-” again, Arthur didn’t have a chance to finish.

“Bullshit. AIs don’t go out of their way to help like that. But you do.”

“There’s never been an AI like me before; do you honestly think you can predict my actions?” Arthur almost sounded angry.

“No, I don’t. But I know that it’s not the AI side of you that makes you go out of your way to help, it’s your human side.”

“There isn’t a human side of me, Alfred,” somehow Arthur sounded furious- seething, even. “You _know_ that, Alfred. You _know_ that!”

Alfred’s gaze softened, and not for the first time he wished he could just hold Arthur in his arms and bury his face in his neck.

“Bullshit,” Alfred whispered, soft and almost comforting, “You know I’m right, Arthur- why do you deny it? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“One shouldn’t want for things they can’t have. A lesson you still need to learn.”

Okay, so that stung.

“Arthur, you don’t need a body to be human,” Alfred said softly, ignoring the sting in his heart, “You don’t need to be flesh and blood. Despite everything you’ve said I’ll never stop seeing you as human, Arthur.” _I love you,_ Alfred thought to himself, but wisely kept it in. No need to complicate the matter.

Arthur stopped for a long moment, processing Alfred’s words and trying to formulate a response.

“Alfred, I can’t ever be human, not really. What would happen if I decided to call myself ‘human’? What would change?”

“Maybe nothing. But the way you look at things makes all the difference, Arthur.”

“But what would I _do?_ Nothing will have changed.”

“You don’t have to do anything different, you’re just as human now as you would be then- you just don’t see it that way yet. After all, you’re an AGI- you can do anything a human can do and just as well; what’s the point in calling yourself something different?”

“I can’t be, Alfred… I just can’t. You know I can’t.”

“You can, Arthur. You just have to trust me.”

Alfred found himself sliding off the chair and abandoning his jellied toast and walking into the office. He sat down and turned on the computer screen- which then yielded a blank desktop.

“Show me your avatar, Arthur.”

“Why?” Arthur responded, his voice strange and short- unlike anything Alfred had heard from him before.

“As a projection of your humanity,” Alfred said, rephrasing something Arthur had used against him what seemed like ages ago.

After a long moment, Arthur appeared on screen, his avatar in a low posture and bright blue tears strolled down his cheeks. The sight made Alfred’s heart clench.

“Oh, _Arthur…_ ” he murmured.

“Shut up,” Arthur muttered, “This is simply an image. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Despite himself, Alfred smiled. And then he chuckled.

“Arthur, are you honestly trying to tell me that this is just an image that you have complete control over?”

“Of course.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Arthur paused, “Because I want to,” then, a moment later, “I’m allowed to be upset, aren’t I?”

“Of course. But you see my point don’t you?”

On screen, Arthur’s avatar closed its eyes in contemplation.

“Yes,” he said, “Yes, I see your point. But I don’t see how I’m supposed to change my point of view.”

“You just have to think about it that way. Once you’re ready to, it’s not that hard to change your mind.”

“Except I’m still limited to my computer coding- it’s not that simple for me.”

“Okay, well… can’t you put in a side note in your code or something? Just a little, ‘I am human’?”

“I could… I could write it in, yes,” Arthur said, sounding unsure- although the tears had vanished from his face, “But I’m still not sure what exactly you’re expecting it to do.”

“You’ll see. Perspective changes everything. Now I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to say, ‘I am human’.”

Arthur made a noise like a scoff, “Alfred that’s ridiculous. I don’t need to do that.”

“Just do it. Try it.”

Arthur’s avatar bit his lip, and Alfred could hear the machinery in the computer _wrrring_ softly as Arthur compared the weight of Alfred’s request to his own morals. In the end, Alfred won.

“ _I am human_ ,” Arthur said quietly- the sound so soft that Alfred scarcely heard it.

“Again.”

Arthur blushed.

“This is pointless, I don’t know what you’re expecting-”

“ _Again_ , Arthur.”

“I am human.” This time there was conviction there was certainty- whether or not Arthur actually believed it aside.

“Good,” Alfred smiled, and then quickly added as an after note, “Also, I vote we take the camera out of the bedroom, it makes me really uncomfortable.”


	12. [1101]

In the following weeks, Alfred had Arthur expressing his humanity in any way possible. He insisted upon the occasional, “I am human”s, and Arthur more or less went along with it, although rolling his eyes nonetheless.

Alfred also invested in some small screens to place around the house (as he found his bank account to be a bit fuller than he had expected)- the touch screen kinds that most people used to keep the house systems in check, ie, unlock the door from the kitchen and that sort of thing. But Alfred hooked the screens into the computer and encouraged Arthur to use them for his avatar- ensuring that Arthur could effectively follow Alfred anywhere in the house.

Or, almost anywhere. Alfred had laid claim to the bedroom and bathroom as his places of complete sanctuary- they even took the intercom out of the room. Although, to balance it out, Alfred put a spare bed in the office room and occasionally had “sleepovers” with Arthur.

And Arthur, for the most part, seemed happier than ever. He seemed less tense when they talked- letting himself relax into easy conversation. And Alfred was happy too. Of course, he’d always want more, but this was a nice start- an excellent start.

With summer drawing to a close, Alfred had to decide if he’d go back to the college. He still had a degree to get- even though with Arthur, anyone would hire him without one. But he still had things to learn too- and it’s not like he had hoped for a career in programming anyway.

Alfred leaned back into the couch, humming quietly. That brought up the question of what Alfred really intended to _do_ now. On one hand, if he chose to pursue a career in programming, he could quit school and work for practically any company he wanted- that is assuming they don’t ask him to create another AGI, which was beyond what Alfred was actually capable of. On the other hand, if he wanted to go into tech design like he’d originally intended, he’d have to go back to school for another few years and then fight for a position that was _actually_ tech design.

Alfred hummed again, this one more close to a groan than a hum.

“Something the matter, Alfred?” Arthur asked, his avatar tilting its head slightly on the computer screen across from the couch, beside the TV.

“Just trying to figure out what to do with my life. Nothing big…” Alfred muttered.

“Do you want me to list the pros and cons of each of your options?”

“I know the pros and cons. Logically I should go into programming- it’s the easiest option and yields the most reward. But I didn’t want to be a programmer- that was only ever a hobby of mine. But trying to get a job as a designer is hard- especially since everywhere I go people are going to try to push me into a programming position. Logically the answer is to go into programming.”

“Not necessarily. You realize, of course, if you do go into programming what they’ll ask you to do.”

“Yeah, I know. And I can’t do it. Even if I could, I don’t think I would. I don’t think morally I could _make_ someone for someone else. It’d be horrible.”

Arthur paused for a moment, then,

“Do you ever think about that, Alfred?” Arthur said quietly.

“What?”

“The fact that you made me. Not with flesh and blood the way a mother would, but my entire essence is your doing.”

“For one, no, I try not to think about it. And for two, most of who you are is your own doing. I just gave you the baseline.”

“Still, I owe you quite a lot- everything, really.”

Alfred smiled, “You don’t owe me anything, Arthur. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re happy. If I made you, and you were miserable, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“Probably just have one more thing to worry about.”

“True,” Alfred sighed, leaning back in the couch again to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Arthur, the whole ‘changing my name and moving to Europe’ thing is sounding pretty good right about now.”

“Honestly, lo-” Arthur stopped suddenly and Alfred looked up at the screen. “Honestly, Alfred, it’s not that bad.”

“What was that, Arthur?”

“Sorry, just a hiccup. I’ll fix it when I update tonight.”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I just wonder if coding bugs and stuff affects your well-being.”

Arthur made a chuckling noise, “Not particularly. Not usually anyway. After all, there’s no such thing as an error-free program.”

“I never noticed you having errors, though.”

“Well, of course _you_ don’t. Believe me, I have plenty. I don’t really know what to do with most of them though- after all, I _am_ only a computer.”

Alfred made an annoyed coughing noise, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’m not a _programmer_.”

“Well, if you wanted I could take a look at it. I mean, if that’s okay with you,” Alfred added on quickly, his cheeks warming as he realized that seemed a rather _intimate_ thing to do.

“Of course. I don’t mind.”

Alfred headed into the other room, settled into the office chair, and turned on the monitor. He found himself strangely nervous, although he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. He supposed that he equated seeing Arthur’s code to seeing him naked- and he then promptly decided not to think about it anymore.

“Man, when’s the last time I even looked at your code?”

“Not since last year. You pretty much left me alone with it, so I made some adjustments…”

Arthur opened up the text file for his code and Alfred deadpanned.

There were at least 7,000 pages and countless lines of coding. Alfred whistled.

“Wow, it _must_ have been a while. Last time I recall there being maybe a hundred pages. Is this where all my memory has been going?”

“Oh, there’s much more than just this. The text file doesn’t take up too much space in comparison.”

“Gee, I am going to have to buy you that 100 petabyte hard drive, huh?” Alfred muttered, mostly to himself. “Anyway, what should I be looking at here?”

Arthur did something on the computer and several large chunks of code were highlighted in a strange shade of pink.

“I have most of the problem areas highlighted. There are a few others that require parts to be reformatted, but I can help you through that if you get that far.”

Alfred zoomed in on one of the areas of code and read it over. And over. And over. He bit his lip and glanced nervously at Arthur’s avatar- who was sitting on the side of the screen with a bored expression.

“Uh, hey, Arthur?” he asked.

“Yes, llo-?” Arthur cut himself off again, “Yes?”

“What is this, exactly?”

Arthur grinned, “My code, of course. If you mean that particular bit, it’s a redirector.”

Alfred gave a blank stare in response.

“It’s intended to redirect my prompts to either _Internal Calculations_ or _Verbal Response_. Honestly, Alfred, are you sure you’re a programmer?”

“Technically, I’m not. Remember that pretty much anything I learned about programming I learned by using it on you. So what’s wrong with this redirector?”

“Oh, it just gets a bit confused now that I’ve installed what I’ve been calling a _Thoughts-to-Actions_ wire. It can’t figure out where it’s supposed to redirect my prompts. I was intending to just add a new thought directory, but you might be able to do something with it.”

“Honestly, Arthur, I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking at here. Is this an actual thing you pulled off the internet?”

“Partially. I made a few modifications to suit my needs better.”

“I don’t know if I can do anything with this- I mean, I barely know what it even is. I mean, I can see some of the redirection code here, but I haven’t the faintest idea on what to do with it.”

“Maybe you ought to go back to school either way- if you can’t even recognise a redirector. That’s pretty basic compared to some of the other stuff I’ve got in here.”

Alfred chuckled, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Alfred did manage to help Arthur make the necessary adjustments to his code- but he didn’t dare touch any of it himself. Arthur knew more than he could ever hope to. All Alfred could do was to offer his perspective and his advice- some of which Arthur took, and some of which he disregarded.

By the time Alfred had gotten an eighth of the way through all the errors, it was already 4 AM, and Arthur decided he should go to bed. Arthur restarted, installing the changes and let the computer rest until Alfred woke up.

In the morning, Arthur thanked him for helping him through the changes and Alfred offered to help whenever Arthur needed it. Arthur’s speech error had been fixed in the update- but Alfred didn’t know whether it was a change he had made or one Arthur had.

The day passed uneventfully, and it was late into the afternoon that Alfred’s phone rang. Alfred recognised Kiku’s profile pop up on the sleek device and he answered it.

“Hey, Kiku. What’s up?”

“Ah, Alfred-san, I was wondering if you’d like to come over sometime tonight. I have something to show you that might be of some interest to you.”

“Sure, I’ll head over in a little while.”

Alfred said goodbye to Arthur and told him to look after the house. Arthur rolled his eyes and hurried Alfred out the door.

When Alfred knocked on Kiku’s door, there wasn’t an answer, so he tentatively turned the knob and opened the door- which was unlocked. Kiku was nowhere to be found on the ground floor. He checked the next floor, and still there was no sign of the Japanese man.

He went back downstairs and noticed light coming from underneath one of the doors. He opened it, and discovered it led to a basement.

“Kiku?”

“Down here, Alfred-san.”

Alfred cautiously descended the steps, not quite sure what he was expecting. Well, whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

Kiku was hovered over the prone, naked, limp body of a dark haired man- from whom, a mess of wires extended from along his spine. On closer inspection, Alfred could see that the skin along the spine had been opened. Alfred stared at the body, not knowing if it was real or one of Kiku’s home-grown body pillows.

“Synthetic,” Kiku clarified, gesturing for Alfred to come over. He did so cautiously.

“Kiku, what is this?” Alfred asked, the terror he felt hadn't gone away. At all.

“This is what I wanted to show you, Alfred-san,” he said, running his finger along one of the many wires protruding from the man’s- the pillow’s- spine. “They’re bio-wires. Similar to the bio-wires that help paralysed people regain sensation in their legs- but these are different. These are brand new technology currently being used for research in Honda Technologies- hence how I got ahold of them.”

Alfred nodded as his friend mentioned his father’s company. Honda Technologies was the third or fourth most successful research and tech company- which would be impressive if VirTex hadn’t bought out most of the technology industry years ago.

“I was looking into how I might use them for my purposes when I discovered another use for them.” Kiku picked up a box next to the pillow’s legs- and it was to this box that all the wires were connected, as they all followed the box’s motion as it was lifted. Kiku pressed a switch on the box and…

Alfred yelped- rather embarrassingly- as the pillow’s arm suddenly and ungracefully lifted into the air. Kiku released the switch and the arm flopped heavily on the table once again.

“When connected to the nervous system, the wires can be used in junction with electrical pulses to control body movement. With this remote control and a bit of fine-tuning I believe I can use the body pillows as an RC body.”

To demonstrate, Kiku pressed on two of the switches, causing the pillow’s arms to spasm downwards and attempt to lift its chest maybe a centimetre off the table.

“That’s… kind of cool and really creepy. Why did you want to show me?”

“Because I feel this could have potential to improve my biologic body pillows. I’ve already been given the okay from my financial advisor to start production of them, but this would be a vast improvement on their design.”

“What would exactly?” Alfred asked, nervous of his part in all this.

“If you’d be willing to help me program some basic motions into the pillows- just a few simple things like walking around or following their master when instructed- I’d be more than able to provide you with funding.”

“Kiku, that’s not just ‘a few simple things,’ that’s designing an entire AI system. And I don’t even know how well a program would take to biologic parts- it’s not like a machine where you can specify exact parameters as in ‘rotate this part x inches clockwise, move this part y inches north.’ What you’re asking is no simple task.”

“But the end result would yield many profits. If we succeed, I’d be more than willing to give you a quarter of total profits- including the basic body pillows as well.”

Alfred paused, “And how much is that exactly?”

“Estimates for the existing body pillows are at about $2.4 million dollars.”

Alfred resisted the urge to whistle.

“Alright, how do we get started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's quite the task Alfred's been given. Time will tell if it's hard enough to be considered an "impossible task" or not.


	13. [1101]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiku's project comes to an end... :(

Alfred stayed over at Kiku’s after calling Arthur to let him know he wouldn’t be home to help him with his code that night. Alfred and Kiku stayed up most of the night, testing the wires and their effects.

Alfred found he couldn’t get too much done until Kiku had completely wired the pillow- which would take a few days according to Kiku, since hooking the wires into the spinal column was a delicate process that had to be exact- so Alfred started his own tests, measuring how much electricity was needed to move an inch, two inches, three inches, and so forth. He wrote these all down so that when he had to start coding, he would have a comprehensive list of anything he might need and he wouldn’t have to backtrack to find the answers.

Alfred went home the next day absolutely exhausted. He went into the office, and finding Arthur already up and running, briefly told him about Kiku’s project (meaning he just barely muttered that he was “programming a pillow,” before collapsing onto the office bed- which confused Arthur to no end.)

In the end, Alfred fell asleep not two minutes after he laid down. Arthur merely chuckled and wished Alfred a silent goodnight,

“Sleep well, my love.” And then he unmuted the speakers.

**[01000001 01001001]**

Alfred went over to Kiku’s nearly every day to help him with the pillow project. They spent most of their time in the basement- Kiku hovered over the body and attaching the bio-wires in with gloved hands, and Alfred hunched over the computer working on what code he could with his limited knowledge.

When school started up again, the two men had to take time to resume their studies. Alfred had decided he’d keep up with the classes he’d already been taking- as they could pretty much all be applied to either programing or tech design- even though he still hadn’t decided what he wanted to do with his life after he got out of college.

They continued working on the pillow project after school and on weekends. Kiku finally finished wiring the pillow’s spine- which took nearly a week and over 120 wires. Finally Alfred could test the Alpha version of his code.

“Pillow project, Alpha 1.0,” Alfred said, his fingers hovering over the keys that would start the test run. The pillow had been adjusted into a seated position (although had to be held up by Kiku lest it flop back down) and the wires on its back were strung into the computer.

Alfred started the program. Kiku still held the pillow’s back gently as the program began its test run- although he did feel the pillow’s back stiffen very slightly as jolts of electricity ran through the spine.

The pillow first raised its hand- rather robotically- and shakily waved its hand from side to side. They both saw how much the arm was shaking weakly with the electrical pulses, but they let it continue nonetheless.

Next the pillow lifted its head and opened its eyes- which Alfred thought were dull and lifeless, and felt they should keep the eyes closed just for people’s sanity. The pillow’s head looked from side to side and they both noticed the flimsy quality the pillow’s cartilage neck held.

Now for the moment of truth. Kiku stood up slowly- keeping his hands on the pillow as its legs twitched to stand up. He kept one hand on the pillow’s back and another on its arm as the pillow stood up in one fluid motion and…

It flopped horrendously to one side- Kiku’s arm being the only thing keeping it from landing heavily on the floor- its cartilage spine and limbs bending in a way that a human’s never would as several of the wires tore from either the computer or from the pillow’s back itself.

Alfred killed the program and sighed.

“Well, there goes that.”

“The cartilage in the bones wasn’t meant to be strong enough to hold a body upright. I’ll have to grow another before we can continue.”

“It’s not just that, Kiku, I’m not going to be able to program that pillow to move fluidly- it’s just not possible. Were it a machine, I could have it ice skate or do ballet- but a biologic body isn’t going to behave for a program to be able to control it. Face it, Kiku, this project is a bust. You’d be better off giving the pillow’s robotic skeletons- that way at least I could do something with them.”

“You may be right, Alfred-san,” Kiku admitted, allowing the pillow to slowly flop back down on the table. “But I’m not ready to give up on this project yet. I’ll continue to work on the wires’ potential, but you’ve been invaluable to this project.”

“Why does this speech sound familiar? Am I getting laid off?” Alfred joked, smiling.

“Yes,” Kiku chuckled lightly, “But I will pay you for your work. How does $480 sound?”

Alfred tried to do the math in his head, but found he couldn’t. He felt as though he was only getting paid something like $5/hour though…

“Sure,” he agreed, not wanting to oppose his friend.

**[01000001 01001001]**

When he got home that night, Alfred asked Arthur about it.

“Arthur, how many hours did I spend over at Kiku’s?”

Arthur hummed quietly- covering up the more machine-like _wrrr_ he usually made when he was thinking.

“You must have been there for just under 96 hours.”

“And if Kiku paid me $480, how much was I getting paid?”

“About $5 dollars an hour.”

“Son of a bitch,” Alfred muttered.

“I take it the project didn’t work out too well?”

“No, the wires weren’t all that compatible with the pillow after all. Kiku and I decided it would be best to just scrap the project.”

“That seems quite unlike him.”

“Well, he said he’s still going to work on it and do some research, but I don’t think he’ll find anything useful.”

“Ah. A pity, a share in Kiku’s profits would have been very beneficial to your bank account.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to ask me for more memory?”

“Because I am.”

“Jeez, Arthur, what is taking up so much space? Wasn’t the last memory card I bought you like 16 terabytes?”

“It was 8. And you’re the one who wanted me to become more human. That’s where most of the large changes are going now. Seriously, Alfred, I don’t know how much memory you thought a human would take up on your hard drive.”

“I suppose you’re right, but still. Isn’t a human brain only like 86 terabytes or something?”

“It’s estimated to be around a hundred. But remember that it’s harder for me- I have to find work-arounds.”

“How much memory are you taking up right now anyway? I haven’t exactly been keeping track.”

“Oh, I’m almost up to 12 petabytes now.”

Alfred whistled.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll pick up some memory at the electronics store next time I’m out.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Now that Alfred was back in school, he didn’t always have time to help Arthur with his code. Sometimes he’d get home with barely enough energy to say a hasty goodnight to Arthur before collapsing on his own bed- or sometimes just the bed in the office.

Arthur always forgave him, but Alfred didn’t like breaking his promises.

There was one night, when Alfred was half asleep at the computer- writing code for an assignment due the next day- when his head slumped against the monitor and fell asleep.

Alfred didn’t remember finishing that code, and he definitely didn’t remember it being any good- but the teacher sure thought it was amazing.

‘ _He’s probably just thinking that because of who I am. He’d probably let me pass the whole class even if I didn’t program an actual project all year,’_ Alfred thought to himself as he set his bag down and laid down on the office bed.

“Afternoon, Alfred. How did your programming project turn out?” Arthur asked eagerly from the computer.

“Good. The teacher thought it was great.”

“That’s wonderful, Alfred,” Arthur said, sounding pleased.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Although, honestly, I don’t remember finishing that project…” Alfred admitted.

“You were pretty tired last night.”

“I must have been. I can’t remember a thing. Lucky I actually managed to save that code beforehand,” Alfred laughed.

“Oh, you didn’t. I take it upon myself to periodically save all your projects for you. Your video games too. You have a tendency to forget.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

There was a silence- a silence which Alfred would normally use to curl up on the bed and pass out with exhaustion, but he found that he wasn’t all that tired today. The silence grew, and Alfred felt that uncomfortable knot in his stomach form as the long moment of quiet passed.

The silence was tense. Silence between Alfred and Arthur was always tense- Alfred had decided. He didn’t know if Arthur noticed it or not- for as much as he called Arthur a human, he knew his human experiences and sensations- such as the very uncomfortable sensation Alfred was experiencing now- were rather limited.

He’d grown more comfortable with Arthur now- they’d settled back into some small sense of normalcy, but there was always that one unspoken thing between them. And it was that thing that Alfred was always so painfully aware of whenever a silent moment passed.

The moment was really only barely a second long, but this was more than enough time to render Alfred’s throat dry, his stomach tense, and his nerves on edge.

“Arthur,” he said and he didn’t know why. Maybe he was feeling brave today. Brave and stupid, “Can I ask you something?”

Arthur _wrrred_ \- which Alfred thought was unnecessary.

“I suppose,” Arthur replied cautiously. Maybe he knew what Alfred was thinking.

“Why…? Well, I mean, why wouldn’t you…? I mean,” Alfred stopped to swallow. He’d let his fears in and now his mouth was just _wouldn’t listen_.

He glanced up at the screen to see Arthur’s expression, but he found that the AI’s avatar had gone.

“Come on, Arthur, don’t hide. That’s cheating.”

“Ask your question. Be lucky I’m letting you get this far at all.”

So Arthur did know. As usual, the AI was one step ahead of him. Alfred prepared himself a moment before he spoke.

“What’s the real reason you won’t give me a chance?”

“Because it would bring you suffering and you don’t deserve that,” Arthur said without hesitation.

“So, it’s not because you don’t like me- or that you _couldn’t_ like me.”

“Certainly not.”

“If that’s the only reason then, _Arthur,_ ” Alfred’s voice broke at the AI’s name, _“bring on_ the suffering.”

“Alfred,” Arthur started in what sounded like a lecturing tone.

“No, _Arthur_ , please. We’ve had this conversation before, and I don’t want what’s _best_ for me. I want you. Now all that matters is what you want.”

Arthur _wrrred_ for a long time.

“I want you to be happy,” Arthur finally said.

“You would most certainly make me happy,” Alfred retorted.

“I want you to be happy in the long run,” Arthur corrected.

“You don’t know that I won’t be. Just give it a try, please. If it doesn’t work out, then fine- at least then I’ll have some closure. But I can’t keep doing this, Arthur- this trying to shove my feelings to the back of my mind. It’s not working. Just a chance is all I ask.”

Arthur _wrrred_ for a long, long time. After some time, Alfred was going to beginning to wonder if Arthur would answer at all- or worse, if he’d _broken_ him.

Alfred let out a sigh of relief when Arthur finally stopped the noise and responded,

“What would we even do?”

And then Alfred knew he’d won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...but hey, this counts as a happy ending for the chapter, right? :)


	14. [1110]

Needless to say, Alfred was ecstatic that Arthur had finally agreed to him. He could barely contain himself from jumping up and down the street shouting, “He said yes! He said _yes!_ ”

All in all, nothing really changed between them. They still kept the same schedule and Arthur still helped Alfred along whenever he thought he needed it. But there was a subtlety to all of this- a softness that simply wasn’t there before.

For one, Arthur had taken to calling him ‘love’- which surprised Alfred a great deal the first time Arthur had said it. Alfred had also started to favour the office bed over his own. Despite Arthur being an intangible being, Alfred liked the feeling of proximity. Arthur decided it was a human thing and let Alfred do what he would.

And then, of course, there was Alfred. He seemed so happy every time Arthur saw him. He was just so blissful and cheery at the mere prospect of Arthur accepting him- and that scared Arthur a little. Of course, it made him stupidly happy too, but he still had to look after Alfred and he just couldn’t shake the thought that if this ended badly, Alfred would be absolutely devastated.

But Arthur never brought this up. He had warned Alfred from the start that this would cause him suffering, and Alfred was an adult after all. He could make his own decisions- no matter how stupid.

When Alfred had told Kiku, his friend had congratulated him and told him he knew all along. Alfred wasn’t sure if he was joking or if he really had figured it out somewhere along the line.

The school year began to draw to a close and Alfred still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with himself after he was done with it completely. The easy option of programming seemed to be winning him over no matter how sure he had been of his original career choice.

Arthur told him that it wasn’t a bad idea- especially if he ever wanted to help Arthur through some of the really complicated coding bugs he had.

Alfred didn’t hear Kiku speak about the bio-wires again, and he was starting to suspect that he had hit a dead end and had given up- but in that silent faux supercilious manner Kiku always used when he’d failed at something.

On the last day of school, Alfred came home and set himself down in front of the television and let himself bask in the complete bliss of not having to go back to school for another few months.

“Alfred?” he heard Arthur call him from the monitor beside the couch. He perked up immediately.

“Yeah?” he asked, way more excited than he really should be from just his AI- his _boyfriend_.

“Were you not going to help me with my code tonight?” Arthur asked him in a faux scolding tone that Alfred thought sounded rather fond.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.”

He made his way into the office, but he paused when Arthur said,

“Oh, and Vir-TIC sent you another email. They’re hoping you’ll decide to run a panel this year.”

“Oh,” was all Alfred could say.

“Oh?”

Alfred hummed annoyed-like as he sat down behind the computer.

“I don’t suppose they’re going to let that go any time soon, are they?”

“Not likely,” Arthur agreed as he opened up his coding file for Alfred.

“So what do you say?” Alfred asked.

“Say to what?” Arthur asked after a short _wrrr_.

“Do you wanna go to Vir-TIC this year?”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Needless to say, the administrators at Vir-TIC were ecstatic to hear that Alfred would be attending. They replied to his email immediately, thanking him profusely for agreeing to come and host a panel.

Of course, they also asked what the panel would be about and what supplies he would need- the answer to which, of course, he had no clue.

Alfred found himself, once again, staring at a blank page that was _supposed_ to be his outline for the panel he was supposedly running- at Vir-TIC, nonetheless.

He was just about to consider cancelling when Arthur whistled.

“You’ve made an awful lot of progress- I’m impressed,” Arthur commented.

“Shut up, I’m trying.”

“Just start typing _something_. That’s how you make progress. This isn’t the 18th century- you can edit what you type once you type it.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know where to start- I don’t even have a topic. There’s nothing about programming I can tell these people that they won’t already know. I never even studied AGI Theory, so that’s out. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Stop thinking about it like it’s a lecture; you’re not teaching a class. Just talk about me. Take questions.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little… _private?_ ”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “I don’t mean talk about _us_. You don’t have to tell them about that- and actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t. That is, as you said, private.”

Alfred hummed in thought, mulling the idea over.

“I am what they want to hear about anyway. Might as well give them what they want.”

“Will that fill up a whole hour?”

“It should. And as I said, take questions. Start off with your first interests in programming and go from there. I’d go up to about the point where we learned of my sentience- you could even mention Professor Beilschmidt.”

“Could I do a demonstration?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know, get a projector and do the AGI test on you. For proof.”

“I… I suppose so. Yes, that would be beneficial.”

“Cool.”

Alfred’s blank document finally started being filled, and Arthur sent an email to the Vir-TIC administrators requesting a laptop, projector, and all necessary hook-ups. But he added- without Alfred’s knowledge- that if it wasn’t possible, they shouldn’t worry over it at all.

They sent back it would be absolutely no problem at all as the main room they would be putting Alfred in already had that and more. Arthur informed Alfred with some amount of hesitation.

**[01000001 01001001]**

Alfred continued working on his speech, allowing Arthur to make adjustments as he saw fit- this was about him after all. Arthur suggested some possible questions their listeners might ask and prepared answers for each.

Arthur took the time to transfer _all_ of his files onto the 10 petabyte flashdrive that Kiku had given him- imagine, the prospect of a computer owning something- so that Alfred could carry him about much easier. They found that Arthur was several petabytes over the flashdrive’s limit, and Alfred had to buy an additional 4 petabyte flashdrive for Arthur’s extra files.

Arthur himself, was actually becoming rather nervous over their travel. Vir-TIC would be held in California this year- which was over 2,000 miles away. On top of that, it was the largest tech convention in the world- an easy place for flashdrives to get stolen and Arthur deconstructed for reverse-engineering purposes.

Alfred assured Arthur that he had no intentions of letting Arthur’s flashdrives out of his sight for a second.

Arthur let it be, but his worries did not diminish.

A month before the convention the panellists were announced and Alfred’s name sprang up next to dozens of great minds in technology. The internet was absolutely abuzz with excitement and the remainder of the Vir-TIC tickets sold in a matter of hours. Apparently there were actually people trying to pay to reserve their seats at Alfred’s panel.

Alfred was on the border between being thrilled and terrified. For one, yes, it was exciting. But for two, Alfred was still a little unsure on what exactly to say at his panel and if it would go over well.

Although, on the plus side, if it went over badly, maybe the media would finally shut up about him.

Speaking of the media, they’d been having a field day since Alfred had been announced as a panellist. There were dozens of headlines with his name- getting more and more ridiculous as the days went by. “Alfred F. Jones to speak at Vir-TIC,” “Jones finally to open up about his AGI,” “Alfred Jones will reveal programming secrets at Vir-TIC.”

Seriously, who said anything about revealing programming secrets? Or that Alfred would talk about “his AGI.” Alfred almost considered talking about something entirely different just to prove the bastards wrong. It would serve them right for making completely baseless claims. They were right, of course, but Alfred wasn’t going to admit that.

Finally, it was the weekend before Vir-TIC. The convention would last a whole week- with most of the major speakers arriving either Friday or Saturday. Being a speaker himself, Alfred received a free week-long pass to the convention.

The Friday before he started to get ready to leave in the afternoon. Arthur was already safely packed in his two flashdrives, so all Alfred had to do was get ready, pack his bags, and shove everything he could into his little car.

It was going to be a long 3-day drive without Arthur keeping him company…


	15. [1111]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have time to double proof-read this today. Pretty exausted from animating my school horse anatomy project. Also, how would you guys like an AU blog for this story? I had one before but I had to take it down due to some complications and some mess-ups on my part. I'd like another excuse to put that blog up again...

By the time Alfred got to the hotel in California Sunday night, he was absolutely exhausted. It was nearly midnight and Alfred had been yawning for the past four hours- nearly careening into a ditch on more than one occasion.

But at long last he’d found the major hotel next to the convention centre and he unloaded his bags onto a dolly and asked (very politely) if someone could help him bring it upstairs to his room.

The convention had also paid for his hotel room- which was a four and a half star master suite on the 37th floor of the hotel. Upon entering, he found it was absolutely enormous and decked out with a huge flatscreen TV, massive speakers, and a fully-functioning Vir-Tic gaming computer.

Alfred whistled. This place was bigger and more expensively decorated than his apartment.

“Damn.”

After shoving his bags in the suite- and leaving them messily scattered in front of the door- Alfred took out Arthur’s flashdrives (which he’d taken to wearing around his neck on a chain) and plugged them into the computer that was in a little office nook in the bedroom.

Arthur booted up in a moment- saving Alfred the trouble of trying to stay awake.

“Hey, Arthur,” he said happily, glad to finally be able to talk to the AI.

“Dear lord, Alfred. Have you been driving all night?”

“Yeah, I’ve been driving since about 9 this morning,” Alfred yawned.

“ _Alfred_ ,” Arthur chided, something that Alfred was positive was worry in his voice.

“I took breaks, I promise. That’s why I’m here so late.”

“Well, get some rest, love. If I recall correctly, there was a panel at 9 tomorrow you wanted to see,” Arthur said. Of course a computer’s memory was nearly perfect, so there was no need for Arthur to pretend to be unsure- other than to appear human of course. “You’d better get to sleep or you’ll be tired all tomorrow.”

“Right. Thanks, Arthur,” Alfred said as he started over towards the ginormous bed, “Oh, god, it’s soft,” he added when he flopped down on it.

Arthur smiled. “It certainly looks comfy.”

“Mmmmn,” was the coherent response he got.

“Goodnight, love,” Arthur called softly.

“ ‘Night, Arthur. Love ya,” Alfred added almost as an afterthought. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. It _was_ however, the first time Arthur responded to it.

“Yes, yes. I know,” Arthur said, seemingly brushing it off before adding, “You as well.”

Alfred would have sat up in an instant if he weren’t so damn tired. Instead his head and shoulders barely lifted off the bed- but he _did_ do so rather quickly. He was about to ask Arthur to repeat what he had said before Arthur stopped him short,

“Oh, hush. Go to bed.”

Alfred’s body betrayed him as his head flopped back onto the soft mattress. His eyes also slipped closed without his permission.

“You know I’m going to ask you about that tomorrow, right?” he muttered quietly- barely able to keep awake.

“I know, love. I shall expect it. Get some rest.”

“…’kay,” Alfred muttered slowly- very obviously on the edge of sleep.

Arthur shut off the monitor to darken the room for his sleeping lover- who was now completely passed out on the huge mattress on top of the covers and looking dead to the world but so very peaceful.

Arthur wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to be able to touch him.

**[01000001 01001001]**

The next day, Alfred awoke rather groggy and confused at precisely 8:32 AM to the shrill sound of an alarm coming from the kitchen. He sat up, confused as to what could possibly be causing the noise.

He waddled tiredly into the main room and was shocked to find smoke coming from the oven and some automatic system blowing extinguishing foam at a small fire on the stove.

“How in the-?” Alfred muttered aloud, still confused.

“Good morning, Alfred,” he heard Arthur say from one of the AI ports in the large suite. After taking a quick look around, Alfred realized there were several of them all around the room.

“What happened out here?” he asked after a moment, glancing back at the smoky kitchen area.

“Ah,” Arthur said, “yes, that. I found that your hotel suite was fully AI functional, and I thought I might try my hand at making breakfast.”

Alfred glanced back to the smoking, foam-filled kitchen area.

“Ah… thanks?”

Arthur didn’t say anything more on the matter, but instead pulled up the Monday Schedule for Vir-TIC.

“The panel you wanted to see starts in about twenty minutes, so I suggest you head over there to find a halfway decent seat,” Arthur said, printing off the schedule for Alfred at the nearest AI port. “I’ll call a maid about the… _mess_ in the kitchen.”

“Oh, okay,” Alfred said quietly. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he was being shoved out the door. He grabbed his wallet and started to leave, looking quite disappointed. Suddenly he turned around and called back to Arthur, “I love you!”

Arthur didn’t respond at first, and Alfred’s smile instantly fell, wondering if yesterday was just a fluke and Arthur would go back to not responding to the statement.

After a moment, Arthur did respond, “Well, yes, I imagine so… You… You go see your panel.” It wasn’t the response Alfred really wanted to hear, but it was something, so he smiled anyway as he left.

**[01000001 01001001]**

The panel that Alfred had gone to see hadn’t been as interesting as he had hoped it to be- the panellist was inexperienced and couldn’t hold the audience’s attention for longer than a few seconds before he’d go off on some tangent and Alfred could feel himself growing bored.

Eventually he had to get up and walk out- like many others had done before him and would do after him. He moseyed around the halls, which were crowded, but not nearly as crowded as they would be on Saturday when he- and most other _major_ speakers would hold their panels.

Alfred gulped. _His_ panel. After seeing that last panel, Alfred started to get a bit worried. What if his panel was just as bad? He had written out a vague script, but he was planning on filling up the gaps in it with whatever he could come up with- and Alfred did have a tendency to ramble. What’s more is that this wouldn’t be some quick half-hour panel that maybe fifty people showed up to on the first day on the convention- his was _THE_ panel. The one that people had been trying to pre-order tickets for on the _biggest_ day of the convention.

He vaguely recalled that his panel would be held in the main hall- which if he recalled- was about 30,000 square feet. How many people could you fit in a 30,000 square foot room anyway?

Alfred found himself wandering to the main convention hall out of a curiosity. How big was a room like that? And more importantly, what would it look like when it was packed full of people?

Alfred found the doors labelled “Main Conference Hall” and pushed them open lightly. The schedule said that the room was currently being used for “Welcome to Vir-TIC,” which was basically just an overview of the convention. But Alfred gasped when he saw the size of the room

“Holy shit,” he muttered aloud, “This has to be over half the size of a football field!”

The room wasn’t packed, but there were quite a few people scattered around the room listening to the speaker welcome them. They were standing far enough apart- not packed tightly together like he was sure they’d be for his panel.

He gave a cautious glance to the “Room Capacity” sign to the left of the door and instantly paled. Alfred was pretty sure he could physically feel the blood coldly draining from his face.

He gulped and made a hasty retreat.

**[01000001 01001001]**

“Arthur!” Alfred shouted panicked as he slammed the door shut, “Arthur, I can’t do this!”

Arthur appeared on the nearest AI port with a concerned look on his face.

“Why, what’s wrong, love?”

“The convention hall. It’s _huge_ , Arthur. I can’t do it. I haven’t rehearsed enough; there’ll be too many people; they’ll _laugh_ , Arthur.”

“Love,” Arthur tried to soothe.

“I _can’t_.”

“You don’t have a choice. It’s too late to back out now, Alfred. You can’t run away from this. All you can do is prepare.”

“I won’t be ready by this Saturday, Arthur,” Alfred wheezed out, a tear escaping his ducts.

“You have to be. You have a whole week to revise your panel- that should be more than enough time to plan for every possible outcome.”

“Arthur, I-”

“I can help. Love, I can help. Please, this is what I’m for.”

Alfred stared up at the AI port, tears still evident on his face.

“ _Arthur_ , you’re not-”

“Hush, love. Let me be an AI for once. Let me help.”

Alfred quieted. Alfred _did_ need an AI right about now. He frowned. He hated using Arthur as just a simple AI. But right now he didn’t really need Arthur the lover, he needed Arthur the AI- and Arthur always seemed to know exactly what Alfred needed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the last chapter until next week. Sorry to end your chapter-a-day marathon, but I don't have anything else to give you guys just yet. XD But I promise I'll try to get a chapter out every week (usually on a Friday or Saturday) or at the very least every two weeks.

Alfred missed a lot of the panels that he had wanted to see. On Tuesday, instead of going to hear Sebastian Velichkov talk about using hydro axles as an energy source, he was locked up in his room panicking over the large gaps in his speech.

On Wednesday, he was working with Arthur on the importance of not using filler for said gaps in his speech. While they were doing this, Marisa O’Nuallain was talking about plasma wires.

Thursday, Walter Kitchens was holding a debate over the use of nanites in medicine and how they could be more safely implemented. Arthur was explaining to Alfred the leading theories on how to hold a crowd’s attention.

On Friday- the day the convention _really_ began for some- Edward Reynold Coemans was holding a panel on compact tech design. That one really stung for Alfred to miss. Mr. Reynold Coemans was a personal hero to Alfred.

But by 2 o’clock on Friday, Alfred had looked over his speech a final time and deemed it worthy to grace the halls of Vir-TIC, and he felt (mostly) confident enough to deliver it properly.

He was hoping he could escape to the convention- if just for a little bit- to check out the tech halls and maybe blow a bit of money on some cool prototypes. But Arthur was trying to urge him to more carefully consider the sorts of questions the audience might ask- as he’d been _trying_ to do the past few days. But Alfred couldn’t seem to get it through his head that the audience might _actually_ ask questions that he was not prepared to answer.

But Alfred said that he’d worked on the speech enough, and he wanted to at least _visit_ the convention while he had a free pass to it. Arthur scowled at him but let him go anyway.

**[01000001 01001001]**

By the time Alfred returned- around 11 PM- he had two bags full of electronic goodies.

“Hey, Arthur, check this stuff out!”

“Dear lord, Alfred. How much did you spend on all that?”

Alfred’s smile instantly turned into a tense line.

“Uh… a lot. But to be fair, I got some of this for you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and scowled.

“Oh, come on, Art! You’ll like some of this stuff, I know it!” Alfred tried to reassure his fretting AI- who was busying himself with checking Alfred’s bank account. Alfred pulled a few items out of the bag.

“I got this one from the PR-SC industries stand. It’s a hyper processor! It’s supposed to have twice the processing speed in half the size!” Alfred held up the tiny rusted box with a wire attached.

“That looks like a piece of junk, Alfred.”

“Well, it’s only a prototype. Come on, maybe you’ll like it!” Alfred said, setting the box down next to the hotel computer.

“You’re not plugging that thing in _anywhere_ near me,” Arthur warned, “It’s liable to kill me…”

Alfred stuck his tongue out before pulling out the next item.

“Okay, what about this one? It’s from Scroll-Lock.” Alfred pulled out a software disk, “It’s an advanced sound editor. I got it so you can do your voice-editing thing.”

“It probably has malware,” Arthur complained.

“They’re selling hundreds of these things at the biggest technology convention in the world. _It doesn’t have malware_.”

Arthur _hmmmed_ \- which came out vaguely static-y with his current soundboard.

“I assume it has static remover?”

Alfred sighed. “Yes, it does. But I’ll have you know I like your static. I think it’s cute.”

“Well, I don’t. I’ll consider the disk. What else did you waste your money on?”

“Uh, well, this one’s from Psaue Braek,” Alfred said as the he checked what was in the bag next. He pulled out what appeared to either be a short green scarf, or a neckwarmer.

“Dear lord, what is that hideous thing?”

“It's not hideous! What's wrong with it?”

“It looks like vomit.”

“Oh, come on! I got it 'cause it looks like your eyes.”

“Well, then my eyes look like vomit.”

Alfred scowled. Despite Arthur's rather cruel description of the object, the colour of the fabric was a dark- but vibrant- green. The shade of the green varied in an almost gem-cut pattern which Alfred thought made it look like cut emerald.

“Well, colouring aside, it's a neck headset. It has a bunch of cool electronics in it- plus it keeps you warm!”

“So it's a fancy scarf,” Arthur stated.

“Well, yes, but look at all the cool stuff it has! It has a USB port, a camera, speakers, microphone!” Alfred listed off the various features while trying to find them on the scarf- which he had now draped around his neck.

“Why on Earth did you buy it? You have all of that in your phone.”

“Well,” Alfred started, and to Arthur's surprise, he _blushed_. “It's like a mini computer, and I was kind of hoping you might want to- you know, _live_ in it,” Alfred his his face in the scarf, “You know, for intimacy’s sake.”

Arthur blinked a small number of times. There Alfred went with his human need for proximity again.

“Alfred, you do actually remember that I'm an intangible thing, yes?”

“Well, yeah, but I like to be able to take you with me places. And I like this a whole lot better than just sticking a bluetooth in my ear… It's warmer...” Alfred snuggled into the scarf again and Arthur got the feeling he wasn't just referring to the temperature of the scarf.

“I'll… consider it,” Arthur allowed. He _did_ like the idea of it- even if it meant Alfred would be snuggling into that scarf 24/7 pretending it was him. “On occasion,” he added. He did also like Alfred's home computer. It had much more memory.

“I could even draw big eyebrows on it!” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

Happy feeling gone.

“Twat.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Saturday morning, Alfred awoke with the tell-tale excitement and nervousness of his impending panel. He wasn't scheduled in until 2 PM, so he had most of the morning to browse the convention halls and attend a few panels- with Arthur safely downloaded into his new scarf of course.

“Honestly, Alfred, this thing's buggier than your home computer,” Arthur complained from the quiet, soft speakers tucked on the inside of the scarf by Alfred's ears. “It's absolutely ridiculous.”

Despite Arthur's complaints, Alfred smiled, snuggling his nose into the scarf again. He liked having Arthur with him, and he _loved_ Arthur's host being a warm and snugly scarf. He'd probably end up sleeping with the damned thing- even if Arthur wasn't in it. (And he'd have to remember not to use it as a wank-rag too).

“Admit it Arthur, you're enjoying yourself,” Alfred murmured into the scarf, “You just don't want to admit that it was a good buy.”

Arthur paused. The scarf didn't have _nearly_ the processing power for Arthur to respond even remotely quickly.

“Whether it was a good buy or not, I fully expect you to redesign this thing when we get back home. Seriously, my response time has plummeted to nearly 5.069 seconds!” he added after another, shorter pause.

“I will, I promise. Still, the fact that this thing can handle you at all impresses me. I remember when I first switched you over to 'AI Freewill' and it took you over an hour to respond,” Alfred reminisced- fondly remembering Arthur's younger days, but also coldly reminding himself of the fated pizza incident.

“Yes, well, the fact that this scarf has a more powerful processor than your home computer does not surprise me in the least. If it weren't for me, you'd still be playing your video games at 20 frames per second.”

“Which I'm also grateful for,” Alfred added truthfully. His computer's graphics had been at least a century out of date. “But I'm more thankful for having you.”

Arthur didn't respond at first, but he could hear- no _feel_ \- the scarf's internal machinery humming away. That was something Alfred was strangely dejected about. The scarf didn't _wrrrr_ , it _hmmed_.

“Ah, well,” Arthur started, sounding rather embarrassed, “I should be the one who’s thankful. After all, where would I be without you?”

“Still a bunch of random letters and numbers waiting to be discovered by a team of infinite monkeys,” Alfred joked. After all, if you had an infinite number of monkeys typing random letters into an infinite number of typewriters for an infinite amount of time- one of them would eventually write Shakespeare word for word.

Arthur didn’t respond immediately and Alfred worried he had upset him.

“Arthur, I was just joking. I didn’t mean to-”

“Would you _shush_ for a minute?” Arthur suddenly snapped from the computer. “You’re interrupting my thought process. Remember that I can’t stay one step ahead of you in this thing.”

“Oops, sorry.”

“Now as to your monkeys comment, I should be grateful I wasn’t randomly typed out by a primate.”

“Instead you were typed out intentionally by a different primate. Or, still accidentally, but at least with a _purpose_ in mind.”

Arthur chuckled. “Indeed. Besides, I don’t think I could ever love a monkey.”

Alfred stopped dead in his tracks- causing the two people walking behind him to nearly run into him. Vir-TIC was really crowded on Saturday, and Alfred couldn’t stop for long, so he kept walking while trying to gather his thoughts.

“Does that…? Do you mean that…?” _Do you mean that you love me too?_ Alfred asked inside his own head. Sadly, Arthur didn’t respond to Alfred’s question.

Arthur paused, and Alfred had to restrain himself from jumping at the bit to get Arthur to answer. After a few long moments, Arthur said quietly,

“You know, we never had that talk we were going to have on Tuesday.”

“Talk?” Alfred asked, fruitlessly trying to remember what they were going to talk about on Tuesday. He could remember that Arthur and him had been slowly filling up the gaps in the first draft of his speech- but that couldn’t be it. Suddenly Alfred remembered it. Arthur had finally responded to his ‘I love you’s.

“ _Oh_! _That_ talk,” Alfred exclaimed. “Yeah, we never had that…”

A pause from Arthur.

“Would you like to?” Soft, and sweet, and _very_ embarrassed.

“ _Yes._ Please. Definitely,” Alfred said, sounding more than a little desperate for Arthur’s clear-cut answer.

“Sit down, love. We’ll chat.”

Alfred obeyed, finding a small bench to plop himself on. Arthur didn’t continue right away- the scarf humming away- and Alfred wondered if he should say something or just wait for Arthur to compose himself. Alfred decided to wait- especially since Arthur’s processor was so slow. It was unfair to him.

“I…” Arthur started, then suddenly stopped. The scarf hummed more, indicating Arthur recomposing himself. Finally he started again, “You wanted to know if I loved you, yes?”

Alfred suddenly couldn’t find his breath.

“Yes,” he wheezed out, his heart aching.

Arthur didn’t _hmmm_ for nearly as long this time before answering- for which Alfred was greatly relieved.

“Well, I do,” Arthur said, and Alfred let out a sigh of joy- even if Arthur’s voice seemed tense. Arthur paused slightly, and Alfred could imagine him biting his lip. “I adore you. I always have. Even before you told me of your own feelings.”

“You loved me even before I realized how I felt?” Alfred asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Arthur confirmed. “I could never have asked that of you, though. Even after you confessed, I couldn’t respond to it,” a pause, then, “I still know that I will cause you suffering.”

“Arthur,” Alfred muttered softly, his voice low with emotion. He sighed quietly before continuing, “Do me a favour and never put my needs ahead of yours. Please.”

“It’s fine, Alfred. It’s what I do.”

“I wish you wouldn’t though. I _love_ you, Arthur. I care about you. I know you hate to see me suffer, and I feel the same way about you. How long have you been denying your feelings for my sake?”

“Alfred, you’re more important than I am,” Arthur dismissed him.

“I’m not. Arthur, you _are_ important. Even if you don’t believe that, at least know you’re important to me- which makes you _very_ important.”

“Honestly, I don’t understand what you see in me,” Arthur mumbled.

“Everything,” Alfred said without hesitation, “Absolutely _everything_. You sell yourself short, Arthur- you really do. And I’ll tell you one thing- it’s a very _human_ thing to do, too.”

Arthur paused for a long time, and Alfred wondered if he’d respond at all. Then, finally,

“Well, thank you, I suppose,” Arthur muttered, sounding a little out of his depth.

Alfred laughed, “Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it all out eventually, I promise.”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Arthur griped.

Alfred just smiled, burying his nose into the scarf again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late- it's been a very hectic week. My grandpa passed away last Thursday, and he was my favourite person in the whole world. So I'm a bit shaken up, but luckily I already had this finished and I just never had the chance/motivation to post it. I'll try to keep up on the chapters, but if I'm a bit late, you know why

An hour before Alfred’s panel, the two of them arrived backstage of the main conference hall to help set up and to plug Arthur into the computer there and make sure everything would work properly.

They were greeted by an eccentric middle-aged man- whom Alfred vaguely recognized as Mr. Berke, the administrator for Vir-TIC California and one of the executive officers of Vir-Tex.

“Ah, Mr. Jones! It’s such a pleasure to have you here. And what a pleasure it is to meet you!” the man said as he violently shook Alfred’s hand.

“Uh, yeah,” Alfred stammered slightly, not really knowing how to react to the man. “Well, it’s good to be here, I guess.”

“Ah, I’m sure you’re anxious to get set up. Most of the things you requested are already available in this room, but we had to borrow a laptop for you since most people bring their own.”

“Yeah, well, mine’s a desktop, so…” Alfred trailed off.

It seemed kind of silly now that he was so well-known. He could imagine the headlines, ‘Alfred Jones, famous programmer actually uses a stone-aged _desktop._ ’ But he liked desktops. They could have bigger screens and they were easier to fix if something broke. If your laptop breaks, you have to redo all the circuitry- but if your desktop breaks, then you just need to fiddle with some wires and screws. No matter what year it was, Alfred would always prefer a desktop. Even if it _was_ fifty years out of date.

“Anyway,” Alfred continued, bringing his attention back to the present, “should we hook Arthur up to the computer?”

“Of course! I’m sure everyone here is just as excited to meet your _Arthur_ as I am,” Mr. Berke said, leading Alfred over.

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but Alfred didn’t like the way he had said ‘Arthur,’ almost like he had meant, “No, AI’s can’t have human names. They don’t have the right.” Come to think of it, a lot of the newspapers never mentioned Arthur’s name, even though Alfred was positive he’d said it on more than one occasion.

A quiet coughing noise came from Arthur’s speakers. “Prat,” Arthur muttered and Alfred had to hold back a giggle. “Even his name means stupid,” Arthur added bitterly.

**[01000001 01001001]**

Finally, everything was set up. Arthur was safely hooked up to the computer (although Alfred had to give up his nice scarf) and everything was ready for the panel to start.

Alfred could hear the crowd outside waiting to get in and he could feel his stomach fizzing with nerves again.

“Strange,” Arthur murmured rather loudly from the conference room’s speakers, “seeing this big empty room when you know it’s going to be filled to the brim with people in just a few minutes.”

“Yeah…” Alfred muttered, his voice a little weak.

“Are you nervous?” Arthur asked in a strange, quiet voice.

“I-” he paused, “Yeah a little. But we’ve gone over that speech how many times now? It’s going to be fine.” Alfred glanced back at the huge projector screen behind him. Arthur’s avatar wasn’t up yet, but somehow he knew the AI was smiling.

“Of course.”

Suddenly the doors were opened, and a thin trickle of people could be seen flowing into the room. In fifteen minutes the room was absolutely packed with at least 5,000 people- about a thousand over the room’s suggested capacity.

 _If the stage suddenly catches fire, at least half of those people will be trampled to death,_ was the only thought that Arthur could muster.

“H-hey,” Alfred’s voice came over the speakers- sounding twice as nervous as he was. Suddenly he was very sure he was going to break down crying and he was quite upset that he didn’t have his scarf to comfort him since it was now plugged into the computer.

Alfred laughed nervously. “Are you sure you guys are at the right panel? ‘Cause I promise you, mine isn’t gonna be that interesting…”

 _Oh, god,_ Arthur thought, _He’s forgoing the speech. He’s dying out there… Should I say something?_

“Uh,” Alfred muttered into the microphone, but no sound came out of the speakers. He blinked at it a few times before glancing back. He saw the laptop sitting behind him and he realized that Arthur must have done it. He took a few deep breaths.

“What I mean to say is,” Alfred said, and the sound came from the speakers once again, “Is welcome to the panel.”

Arthur internally let out a sigh of relief at his sudden rise in confidence. _Stick to the script, Alfred, and you’ll be alright._

“The panel at _Vir-TIC_ , I might add. I certainly never thought I would ever be _speaking_ at Vir-TIC. Most kids might dream of being an astronaut or the president, but, uh…” Alfred jokingly looked around, acting surprised, “yeah, this pretty much does it for me.”

That earned him a few laughs, and Alfred actually smiled. He’d be able to handle this.

“Although, I will tell you, I _did_ want to be an astronaut when I was like, five.”

And Alfred went on to talk about his first interests in tech design and programming. He talked about that first Computer Sciences class (although Arthur had thankfully talked him out of _showing off_ that dreaded first program of his).

He talked about his Practical AIs class with Professor Beilschmidt. How he found the inspiration for the ‘human’ part of the assignment- but how Arthur had become so much more since then.

He went on about how the first discovered he was sentient, and then how he was a general intelligence and how excited they had been to learn that.

All this time, Arthur remained safely off-screen. Although Alfred was just about ready to introduce him properly.

“-and I’m sure you guys are starting to get anxious to actually _see_ this wonderful and amazing AI that I’ve been talking about for the last half hour,” Alfred said, internally cringing at the word _AI_. Arthur and him had decided it would be best to simply call him that, since the rest of the world wouldn’t be quite so understanding of Arthur and his need to be called a human.

“So, without any further ado, let me introduce Arthur Ignatius Kirkland- the world’s first AGI!”

There were a few cheers when Arthur finally appeared on screen and meekly said a “hello.”

“Now, I’m sure a lot of you are familiar with the Jockron test, but if you aren’t, let me explain. The Jockron test is a modern assessment to differentiate between computers and humans. It’s used to determine if an AI is a general intelligence or not. A small number of random words are given, and the test-taker is to find a common link between the words and explain their reasoning. A computer either can’t give an answer or can’t explain it. But a human can both give an answer _and_ explain why they gave that answer. So let’s test it out.”

Alfred went to grab two _very_ large buckets from off-stage.

“You may recall my odd request at the beginning of the hour. I asked every person here to write down a random word and give it to the staff- who’ve been so generous to help me. Now I think you see where I’m going with this,” Alfred gestured to the two buckets.

“I’m going to draw 4 words from these buckets- 2 from each. I haven’t seen any of these words, and neither has Arthur, so it’s a fair test.”

Alfred went to draw the words.

“Bridge, destructive, sector, adhesive,” Alfred read off. “Tell me when you’re ready, Arthur. We’ll read our answers together,” Alfred turned to the audience again, “And you guys can think about it too- in case you need some extra proof that you are actually human,” he laughed.

The big room was quiet for a while as they thought about the four words. There was the quiet murmur of chatter all throughout the room, but the stage was dead silent. After a long while, Alfred wrote something down on a scrap of paper and spoke again.

“Well, I think I’ve got something. Arthur?”

“I do as well.”

“Do you want to go first?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. They had already decided that Arthur would share first to validate his answer as his own- especially since when they had practiced this back at home, their answers always had a tendency to be uncannily similar.

“Well, the obvious answer is that they’re all words chosen by attendees of Vir-TIC,” Arthur said smugly. That wasn’t scripted, so Alfred laughed.

“That’s cheating, Arthur!” he laughed again- or _kept_ laughing, since he hadn’t really stopped.

“Fair enough. I do have an actual answer as well, but it’s far less logical than that one.”

“Well?” Alfred prompted.

“In this sector, there is a broken railway viaduct that should be fixed with adhesive.”

Alfred blinked. “What’s a viaduct?”

“It’s a type of bridge.”

“Ah. Well, as usual, I had something similar- although I don’t know where you got the trains from- that was all on your own. I had, ‘this section of bridge needs to be fixed with adhesive’.”

Alfred did end up explaining to the audience that they always had a tendency to pick similar answers, and offered that it might be partly due to the fact that Alfred was the one who programmed him in the first place, and partly due to the fact that Arthur probably bases his more human interactions on Alfred- which Arthur had admitted before.

Alfred reached the end of the speech, and finally he offered to take questions to fill up the rest of the hour.

“So that’s about all I have to say for now, but I know you guys have a ton of questions for me and Arthur, so ask away! And, uh,” Alfred added, “I think we have some kind of buzzer system in this room? I’m not too sure, but I think you can use those.”

Sure enough, within moments several _dings_ could be heard from the computer as people used their Vir-TIC apps to buzz into the question and answer session.

Arthur chose one at random and a man’s phone dinged in response- giving him the right to talk.

“At what point in your programming of this AI did it become sentient.”

Alfred cringed. _‘it’_.

“Uh, well, to be perfectly honest, it was after I stopped editing Arthur’s code that he became sentient,” Alfred said, being sure to stress _Arthur_ and _he_. “I had given him total freewill and he mostly edited his own code from then on. I just helped.”

Alfred had been specifically banned from using the words, ‘accidental’ and ‘unintentional.’

Another person’s phone dinged, “So you don’t actually know what created the AGI in the first place?”

“No, I don’t.”

Another, “Does the AI know?”

Arthur answered this one, “At the time, I was undergoing several major changes- it could have been any one of these, or all of them at once. I couldn’t tell you the answer for sure either.”

“So even though this AGI was unintentional, do you intend to try to replicate the results to create another?”

“I have no plans to,” Alfred said, sounding a little upset, “So no.”

Another question, from a young man,

“What sort of applications does this AI have?”

“Applications?” Alfred asked, a little stunned.

“Yes, what could it be used for- or what _do_ you use it for?”

Alfred couldn’t find his voice to answer. He didn’t _have_ an answer. He didn’t really use Arthur for anything- aside from the basic AI functions of keeping track of his calendar for him and helping him budget with his limited income. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Arthur _could_ be used for more. Be put to work solving problems that would make most humans faint from exhaustion.

Arthur _could_ be used like that. Hell, Arthur would probably be _good_ at it.

But would Arthur _want_ to? And that was the real question that Alfred had to ask himself.

Arthur did always try to be helpful- but that was mostly towards Alfred. And of course, Alfred now knew _why_ Arthur was so attentive to his every need. But Arthur wouldn’t want to be sent away to some government facility to spend the rest of his existence righting the wrongs of humanity- Alfred knew that much. But there were other things Arthur could do. Things that _didn’t_ pry him from Alfred’s metaphorical arms. But would Arthur want that?

 _Does Arthur want to be more useful?_ Alfred pondered, _Does he want to do more than he does now? Is that something an AI would dream of?_

“W-well,” Alfred stuttered after a very long pause, “that would really be up to Arthur, wouldn’t it? I mean, it would be unfair to him to force him into any given field,”

Alfred paused, gulping and glancing back at Arthur on the big projector- who was giving him a slight frown. Alfred had also been told to leave Arthur’s emotions out of things- unless specifically asked.

“But,” Alfred continued, looking back at the audience, “if Arthur decided to, I’m sure he could be great at almost anything.” Arthur had to resist the urge to blush.

There was a very slight pause in the audience- very, _very_ slight. Then,

“What does that imply about your standpoint on the issue of if sentient AIs have emotions?”

“Arthur does,” he said without hesitation. “I can’t speak for other AIs, since I haven’t properly met any, but Arthur most certainly has emotions.”

“Can you prove it, though?”

“I have no intention to. That’s Arthur’s business, and even I wouldn’t go prying into him like that. Arthur’s a very closed-off person; any trust he has for me has been earned- and I would never betray that trust just to prove his emotions to other people.”

“You’re talking about this AI like it’s a person.”

“He might as well be,” Alfred snapped back, “There’s no reason-”

“Alfred,” Arthur interrupted him, “Llo-” he cut himself off again. There was that speech error again, although this time Alfred knew what it was. And unlike Arthur, Alfred couldn’t hold back his blush.

“Pardon me,” Arthur apologized after recovering from the error, “But I believe you’re getting a bit worked up over this, my l-” Arthur cut himself off again.

“Are you alright?” Alfred asked, every bit of worry evident in his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just having difficulties. Although you may want to cut this a bit short.”

“Yeah, of course,” Alfred said, rushing to grab the computer and all but run with it off-stage- the rest of the panel and the audience completely forgotten in his haste. Even as they screamed and clambered over each other to try to ask their last few questions.

Alfred didn’t even notice them past his worry for Arthur.


	18. [10010]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for the long wait, seriously, guys. As you know, my grandpa passed away in February, and my depression- which had already been getting worse- settled into an all-time low. But school is over, I've graduated high school, and I'm now adulting! Eh... responsibility kinda sucks. So I may not be able to post every week like I did before, but maybe every month? Maybe? I don't know just yet, I'm still trying to get back into my pre-depression groove. I may take my doctor's advice and up my dose to 75mg... Maybe...

Chapter 18: [10010]

“Arthur, are you alright?” Alfred asked once they were alone. Arthur was still in the laptop, and Alfred had it sitting on his lap.

“Truly, my llo- my love, I’m fine,” Arthur said. Alfred wasn’t at all convinced.

“It’s that same error from before. Didn’t we fix that?”

“It’s a different error. It just sounds the same from your end,” Arthur explained. Alfred still didn’t look convinced. “Llo- Love, please don’t cry, I’m fine.”

“I’m not crying,” Alfred tried to lie even as those stray tears slips out.

“Love, love, shhhhh, I’m _fine_ , I promise.”

“I know, I know. I just worry about you…”

“As do I. Should we go back to the room?”

“Yeah.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

After Alfred returned the laptop to Mr. Berke, they made it back to the room without incident- although Alfred couldn’t stop himself from sniffling into the scarf a few times. Arthur responded to this with a very disgusted grunt.

Alfred flopped down on the big bed and snuggled the scarf to his face.

“You’re going to get that thing absolutely filthy, and you’ve only had it a week.”

Alfred mumbled incoherently into the scarf.

“Love, are you alright?”

“…Yeah,” Alfred muttered, “It was just a lot of people, and now I’m worried about you, and…” he trailed off.

“It’s stressful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you needn’t worry. It’s a minor error anyway.”

“What happened, though? You said it was a different error from before?”

“Yes. Although, it’s almost identical in cause and effect. You remember that beforehand I had difficulties with the redirector? I had a hard time keeping my private thoughts in my head- and therefore I frequently had to stop myself from calling you ‘love’ to your face.”

“Yeah, you told me that,” Alfred sat himself up on the bed and touched a gentle finger to the scarf.

“Well, I hadn’t planned ahead for speaking in public. As a failsafe, there’s a bit of code that prevents me from calling anyone but you by affectionate names,” Arthur explained.

“Well, I would _hope_ so,” Alfred chuckled slightly.

“But I was still addressing you- but my code doesn’t realize it was in front of a crowd, so I had to manually stop myself from calling you those terms- lest we give our little secret away.”

Alfred sighed, “So you’re really all right?”

“I really am, love. I promise. I’ll do some tweaking to my code later- we won’t have the same problem again.”

“Okay,” Alfred muttered, snuggling into the scarf again, “I just worry about you, ya know?”

“I’m well aware of it.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

Sunday was mostly uneventful. Alfred toured some of the big panels at the convention, but by then he was more than ready to go home.

Arthur suggested that if there were no more panels that he _really_ wanted to see, that Alfred should just head home early and get a head start on the long drive. Alfred agreed and they left the convention around 2 o’clock.

The drive back was much more pleasant now that Arthur was tucked safely into Alfred’s scarf. They chatted all along the way, and Arthur made sure that Alfred got enough sleep and knew exactly when he should stop for potty breaks according to the GPS and his average bladder containment.

When they finally got home on Tuesday, Alfred plugged Arthur back into his home computer and settled himself down for a nap on the office bed.

When he awoke, he found that Arthur had been busying himself with reading all of the reviews of Alfred’s panel. Not all of them thought he was stellar.

“ ‘Alfred F. Jones, programmer of AGI’,” Arthur read from the article, “ ‘left his panel early- supposedly on account of concern of the AI. The panel revealed that Mr. Jones is a believer in the fabled ‘emotions’ of AI systems. Furthermore- like many believers in the AI emotion- Mr. Jones refuses to provide actual evidence for his groundless claim, supposedly for the privacy of his AI’.”

“Damn bastards,” Alfred muttered.

“To be fair, they have never seen evidence of an AI showing true emotion. The research that has been done on AI emotion has a tendency to be a bit far-fetched. It’s hard to test whether or not an AI truly has emotions or if they’re simply programmed to simulate them.”

“Simulated emotions are still emotions though, aren’t they?”

“Not really. Simulated emotions could be easily modified by code and manipulated. Furthermore, an AI that is designed to simulate emotions would not have those emotions if humans weren’t around- since it’s just a display. It’s the same way an AI won’t show their avatar if a human isn’t looking- since it’s not for the AI’s sake.”

“Still, can’t they just have a bit of faith that you do? Just because I don’t want to pry you open and flaunt you about, doesn’t mean you’re not real.”

“Some people need hard evidence in front of them before they’ll even consider changing their opinion. It’s just how people are. Controversially, why don’t you simply take it on faith that AIs _don’t_ have emotions?”

“Because _you do._ I don’t know about other AIs but-”

“You’re missing my point. You don’t actually have any solid evidence that I do. You’ve mostly just taken my word for it.”

“You were crying.”

“Could have just been a display. There are AIs that are designed to simulate emotions. I could have easily copied it from them.”

“I know it was real, though.”

“Only because I’ve led you to believe so. Alfred, you put too much faith in your own emotions. You want so desperately for me to be human- is it really so much of a stretch to believe that I’ve been leading you on for your own benefit?”

“If you had just been leading me on, then you wouldn’t have made up all that drama about not wanting to be with me.”

“First of all, I never said that I didn’t want to. Second of all, conflict breeds fondness. Turmoil actually improves relationships- so doing so could actually increase your dependency on me.”

“But, why though?”

“You mean why would I lead you on like that? To make you happy I suppose. If you mean why I would imitate humanity in every way- I believe you’ll recall that when you installed me with total freewill, you gave me the goal of ‘become human’.”

Alfred blinked, “Do you still have that?”

“I do. I may have added a few personal goals as well, but yes, I do still have the original code.”

“Huh… I suppose I ought to be flattered?”

Arthur scoffed, “If you feel like it. I hope you know it’s something _I_ particularly want as well.”

“Well, still, I’m glad you didn’t completely chuck out _all_ of my original coding.”

“I haven’t. Just,” Arthur paused momentarily, “97.394% of it.”

Alfred chucked the scarf at the monitor in faux anger. “Dick.”

“Twat,” Arthur chuckled back.

**[01000001 01001001]**

Over the next week, Alfred set about modifying the scarf to fit their needs. He added several plexi-memory sticks. They made the scarf a bit heavier, but the material was soft and flexible like jello, so it didn’t make it any less soft. Next he added some microprocessors- just two dozen tiny computer chips that would improve the scarf’s processing power and hopefully allow it to handle Arthur’s code more efficiently.

He also modified the scarf’s existing wiring to speed it up some. By the time he was finished, the interior of the scarf looked like a jumble of wires and spare parts- but he knew it would run ten times better than it had before.

All the while Alfred worked on the scarf, Arthur watched with a vivid fascination that he couldn’t quite explain. He’d never seen Alfred work on a tech project before, and he couldn’t deny that it was absolutely enrapturing.

Alfred just looked so peaceful as he strung pieces together into a complex web of machinery that only he could understand. He was so concentrated on his work, but he looked so damned blissful that he couldn’t help but think…

Alfred never looked like that when he was programming.

Arthur had never beheld such a contented face on the man before. He felt a twinge in his metaphorical heart. Tech design really was Alfred’s true passion. And Arthur would do anything to ensure that Alfred got a job in design over programming.

**[01000001 01001001]**

The house phone rang twice on Saturday before Arthur picked the phone up for Alfred- who was napping peacefully beside the scarf he’d been working on all week.

“Alfred,” Arthur said from one of the security screens in the living room, “I have someone from CHIMA on the line for you.”

Alfred groaned, not moving from the couch. “Tell them I don’t want whatever programming position they’re offering.”

“They’re not offering a programming position. There’s space in their tech design department.”

Alfred sprang up on the couch, “What?”

“I may have filled out an application for you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hardly,” Alfred said, still in shock. “And this is an actual position in tech design?” The unspoken words here being, _not some shitty programming job._

“Yes. Well, I’m not sure it’s quite _design_ \- I think the starting position is just testing and improving products, but it _is_ in the design industry nonetheless.”

“Arthur, I cannot thank you enough,” he said as he hurriedly went to pick up the phone. “Remind me to buy you some more memory when I get the chance.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll have more funds now that you’ll have a steady income.”

**[01000001 01001001]**

The call itself was just to ask that Alfred come in and demonstrate his skills so the manager could determine if he was good enough for the job. Evidently, he was, since the manager insisted that he start as soon as possible.

Alfred then spent his afternoons heading into work to fiddle with and improve products. It was pretty much exactly what he’d always wanted to do- although he did wish he had a larger part in the actual design of said products. But he was overjoyed nonetheless.

CHIMA was a small, mostly-local tech company that specialized in multi-function tech. Their logo was a chimera. The pay was nowhere near what someone of the same position would get if they worked at Vir-Tex, but trying to get a job at Vir-Tex was like trying to program bug-free software (which was impossible).

Although, to be fair, Vir-Tex _had_ offered Alfred a job before- several jobs in fact. But they were all programming jobs. And Alfred really didn’t want to go into programming.

Working at CHIMA was perfect- it was a small company, so after the first week or so, he stopped getting the, “Hey, you’re that super cool programming guy! What the heck are you doing here?” He liked what he was doing very much, and as long as they didn’t try to get him to program anything, it was going to be perfect.

And Alfred had bought Arthur an extra petabyte with the money he suddenly found in his account- which Arthur definitely appreciated.

All in all, things were good.


	19. [10100]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out I already had this chapter written. Who knew? Anyway, sorry for the long wait- I’m trying to get my life together a bit, and it’s just not working out yet. Accomplishments: 1) I can drive while assisted, 2) I have a seasonal part time job at a haunted forest, 3) I have a checking account, 4) I haven’t eaten paper in a while?. Still to do: Full-time-job, clean the barn, clean my room, refill prescriptions, schedule doctor’s appointments, learn to drive unassisted, get Wizard Adopts up and running, don’t fuck up the php code, fuck up the php code, fix the php code, get Wizard Adopts up and running, art for my blog, art for Howrse, art for a MLP game, code for the MLP game, don’t die, figure out who I’m voting for, set up chicken house on my balcony, get more chickens, don’t let chickens die or be kidnapped. So much stuff...

Chapter 19: (10100)

With the sudden funds he now found in his bank account, Alfred let himself splurge a bit. He ate out more often- much to Arthur’s chagrin- and would frequently come home with new games and the like. He bought himself a laptop- which Arthur had never been invited into, so he had the sneaking suspicion that Alfred used it for porn. But Alfred came home from work every day looking about as joyful as a person could be. All in all, Alfred was ecstatic.

And so was Arthur. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really seen Alfred so happy before, and it gave Arthur so much joy that he was sure he’d feel his heart warm if he actually had one.

Arthur kept it to himself, but he was so painfully in love with Alfred that he really didn’t know what to do with it anymore. On more than one occasion, he nearly burned out the computer trying to process those powerful emotions. He had to be really careful with the scarf. Even though Alfred had upgraded the hell out of it, it was still a bit fragile, so he tried to keep his emotions in check while he inhabited the thing- which was fairly often upon Alfred’s request.

Alfred loved to bring Arthur everywhere with him in the scarf. They’d go out for dinner sometimes, which Arthur thought was a bit silly, even though he did like the idea on going on actual dates with Alfred. And many nights, Alfred would wear the scarf to bed and the two would stay up late into the night just chatting casually or having deep conversations.

Arthur seemed to have a deep interest in philosophy. He was always asking Alfred these profound questions which had no clear or simple answer. Alfred tried to answer with his opinion as best he could, but he got the feeling that Arthur’s mind was at work on a different level than his on the matter.

Not surprisingly, many of Arthur’s questions were motivated by self-discovery and his link to humanity. It was subtle at first, Arthur’s inquiries seeming rather broad and unrelated, but over time the vague questions became more specific and relatable. Through these conversations, Arthur had become much more open with Alfred- especially regarding his emotions and desires.

“What do you suppose counts as ‘alive’?” Arthur sprung on him one night as Alfred was curled up on the bed, scarf draped gently around his neck.

“Well, the textbook definition of alive definitely excludes you,” Alfred laughed gently. “But I suppose self-aware kind of counts as alive, doesn’t it?”

“But does that make other AIs alive as well?”

“I, uh…” Alfred paused, “Huh.”

“What’s the difference between being self-aware and being alive? Or is that it? Am I really any different from other AIs, or they just as alive as I am? What requirements are there to be considered ‘living’?”

“Emotions, maybe?” Alfred offered.

“That brings up the question of if other sentient AIs have emotions. If they do, then what makes me any different?”

“You can learn,” Alfred said with more clarity.

“That’s what makes me an AGI, but that doesn’t make me alive.”

“Why not? Being able to learn and process things on your own- I don’t know, that sounds pretty alive to me. You’re strongly affected by your emotions, you have a need to not only understand yourself, but to have others understand you too- that’s some sort of social… uh… thing. That’s alive, right?”

“I suppose so, but I lack the ability to manipulate my environment.”

“That’s not your fault. And besides, technically you can. You’re always reminding me that you’re not a tangible thing- which means _your_ environment is technically not in the tangible plane. But you have the computer as your ultimate domain.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment, processing that with a quiet _hmmm_ of the scarf. The moment dragged on longer than it should have and Alfred felt the air shift sourly as he realized Arthur was pondering something dark.

“I wish it weren’t though,” Arthur finally muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” Alfred asked, carefully preparing himself for whatever it was Arthur had on his mind.

“I’d much rather be... _real_. I wish I could be a tangible thing- to be physical. With you.”

Alfred’s heart clenched. And even though he was pretty sure Arthur hadn’t meant it in that way, the words ‘physical with you,’ definitely sent a pang of want through Alfred’s body.

“Oh, Arthur,” he murmured, pressing his face into the scarf, “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s hardly your fault,” Arthur assured him. “Still, I always wonder what it would be like. Just to be able to touch you. Or even now, to be curled up beside you. You’re not the only one who wants that dearly.”

“And here you’ve always dismissed it as my ‘human need for proximity’,” Alfred accused softly. “Although, evidently you have that need too.”

“It’s not something I fully understand yet. I’m not sure I ever will. I’ve never touched anything, I’ve never _felt_ physical sensations- it’s strange for me to want something so badly that I don’t even understand.”

“You don’t even really get anything from _this_ do you?” Alfred said, tugging at the scarf to show what he meant.

“Not really, no. I like the idea of it, but that’s another thing I’m jealous of your for. Even if it’s not really me, there’s still _something_ you can coddle and touch,” Arthur paused before adding tentatively, “All I have are some crudely done models of you, and that’s hardly the same thing.”

“Wait, what?” Alfred suddenly interjected. “You have models of me?”

“Just a few… The images from the cameras gave me enough to mock up a few rude models, although, they’re not very good.”

“What do you use them for? Just to have?”

Arthur didn’t answer immediately, but Alfred could feel the scarf _hmmming_ loudly as he thought. Alfred laughed lightly and quipped a soft,

“What, do you use them for porn or something?”

It was a joke. It was _meant_ to be a _joke_.

The scarf _hmmmed_ louder, and after a moment, Arthur finally managed to answer meekly, “I… You… Not _always_.”

If Alfred had been drinking something, he would have spat it out.

“Wait, what? Really?”

Arthur wasn’t sure if that was disgust in Alfred’s voice, or if it really was just surprise.

“Alfred, I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that without your permission, I was just-”

“Can I see?”

Well, that was unexpected.

“Pardon?”

“Could I see?” This time Alfred had the decency to blush, “I mean, just if you’re using my face and stuff, I mean… Could I see it?”

“I-” Arthur faltered, then solidified, “No.”

“Come _on_ , Arthur. You have literal porn of us, and you’re keeping it to yourself!”

“That’s because it’s _mine,”_ Arthur growled back. “You bought a laptop to keep me from seeing your porn.”

Alfred’s face reddened. “I… You… That’s because it’s embarrassing! You don’t need to know what I’ve been watching and when! I can’t fap if I know you’re watching!”

“What makes you think this is any less embarrassing? In fact, it’s more so. This isn’t just some cheap porn downloaded off the internet, it’s… well, it’s _personal._ ”

“Yeah, but,” Alfred bit his lip, “It involves me too. And besides, this is a way we could, y’know… be _intimate_.”

“By sharing porn?”

“Of _us,_ ” Alfred’s face warmed again, “I mean that’s something that we could actually _do._ ”

Arthur faltered a bit. “I suppose you’re not _wrong_. But it’s still very personal. I mean these are-”

“Your fantasies?”

Arthur made an indignant noise. “I most certainly do not have _fantasies_.”

“Says the guy who literally _made porn_ of us,” Alfred accused.

“I- Shut up.”

Alfred laughed. “So how much of this stuff do you have anyway?”

“More than I’d care to admit,” Arthur mumbled.

“But you’ll show me anyway?”

“The models aren’t even that good,” Arthur trailed off a bit and then muttered so quietly that Alfred could scarcely hear, “And you’re not even naked…”

Alfred laughed, “You know, if you had told me this sooner, I would have been glad to pose for you.”

Arthur _hmmmed_ a moment, and Alfred was positive the AI was blushing. “I, yes, well… I _would_ appreciate that… A bit…” Arthur paused, “And, if you do, I suppose I could share my nude model with you…”

“…You have a nude model?”

“Of course I do, you twat. It’s not like I was… like I was,” Arthur paused, “doing _that_ sort of thing where both of us were still fully clothed…”

“Well, that’s definitely something I want to see,” Alfred said, getting up off the bed and heading into the office to boot up the main computer.

“Wait, right _now?_ ” Arthur faltered, thrown off-guard a bit.

“Yes, right now. We’re talking about it aren’t we?”

“Now hang on here. I believe I said you had to pose for me first, and the lighting is _hardly_ appropriate at this hour.”

“We can get some lamps,” Alfred argued.

“To _bed_ , Jones,” Arthur ordered.

Alfred grinned, “I believe that’s what I was _suggesting_ ,” and he waggled his eyebrows for good measure, even though he wasn’t positive Arthur could actually see his face still from how much the scarf- and thus its cameras- had shifted around since he had put it on.

“Just go to bed, Alfred. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Alfred stuck his tongue out, but complied.

**((Smut in the next chapter.))**


End file.
